Faulty Benevolence
by PrintDust
Summary: Maybe Hell was rusted rotting pipes- drip, drip, dripping, lying in your own caked blood, and hope just a little out of reach. From the end of 3X04- Killer Within. What if Lori survived? Explores multiple POVs.
1. Chapter 1

**I decided to pull this story down and repost it. I want to consolidate some of the chapters and make some corrections and alterations. I appreciate your patience through this process. **

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Lori couldn't stop shivering. The concrete floor she was lying on was cold beneath her and there was something digging into the small of her back. A soft groan escaped her lips and she tried to open her eyes, but when she did the room was blurry, as though she was looking at it through a fish tank. She wondered if she had fallen, but her hand wouldn't co operate when she tried to lift it to inspect her head. Closing her eyes again she tried to focus on the room, her ears straining for any sound. She could hear shuffling somewhere in the distance and dripping from above her. She tried to lift her hand again but it felt stuck, like she had been glued to the floor.

"What the-" her voice sounded scratchy and thick. Opening her eyes again, she squinted at the light filtering through the windows to her right, then lifted her head slowly to inspect her sticky hand. Her mind worked slowly, trying to wrap itself around what she was seeing.

_Blood. _

A lot of it. Hers? But why was she bleeding?

Her hip felt tender and she used her other hand to explore the area where the pain was radiating from. Her fingers tingled as they felt around clumsily until she came into contact with the offending object. Giving it a tug she pulled it free from beneath her and lifted it for inspection.

"Carl," she whispered, inspecting her son's knife.

Eyes widening she dropped the knife to her side as shock swept over her. The light shiver coursing through her body intensified, becoming a hard shake. Squeezing her eyes shut she bit her lip against the pain that built steadily, throbbing in her lower abdomen.

_The baby. _

"Maggie," she whispered, the word trailing off into a deep groan.

Opening her eyes she felt the world drop out from under her and the edges of her vision blurred. Fighting the blackness, she willed herself to stay conscious. Slowly, she peeled her right arm free from the blood that was quickly drying around her. Her left arm was next and she unsteadily positioned them behind her, pushing herself up in the process.

Her heart pumped furiously in her chest as she inspected the incision site. Her abdomen, splayed open, oozed in sync with her beating heart. Horror gripped her as she raked her eyes over her belly, the skin torn jaggedly, pulled back to reveal fatty tissue and her insides.

The world swayed again and she dropped onto her back, panic overwhelming her. She was alive, but she wouldn't be for long. Her breath came quickly and she whimpered at the pain and the cold.

"Please," she whispered, unsure of what she was asking for. "Please," she tried again, the words cut short as a sob escaped her, and then another, and another. "I'm supposed to be dead."

The next time she was aware of anything, it was the feeling of her ears ringing. Something had slammed loudly. Taking a deep breath, Lori opened her eyes and grimaced. The pool of blood had dried further and she fought back a wave of nausea. As disconnected and lightheaded as she felt, she was still aware enough to know that it would do her no good to throw up while she was stuck on her back.

Ears still ringing from a sound she wasn't even sure she had truly heard, she listened hard. The first thing that struck her at the sound of the light scuffle was fear. Squeezing her eyes closed she continued to hold her breath, waiting for the damn thing to pounce on her and eat her alive.

The weight of the Walker hit her side hard and fast. Bony knees collided with her hip, jarring her lower body and she braced herself for the pain of having her already abused abdomen shredded further. She listened to the things ragged breathing and waited, one second, then two, and then three too many.

Finally, she opened her eyes and registered quickly the pale slender face looming over her. The thin woman leapt back, a gasp escaping her lips.

"Shit, you're alive," Carol paled further, her blue eyes darting over Lori's body.

The brunette felt a weak smile curl over her lips, but it was quickly replaced by a grimace. "That d-d-does," her voice shook and she swallowed hard. "Seem to be the unfortunate circumstance."

"Jesus, Lori," Carol moved quickly to her side. "Are you bit? The baby… did Walkers…"

"Abscond with it?" This time Lori let out a light chuckle, but it was a nervous one. "No, Maggie and Carl…"

"Were you bit?" Carol asked, hesitating, letting raised hands linger just above Lori's exposed uterus.

Lori shook her head, hot tears pricking her eyes. "But your hands," she winced both in pain and fear. The other woman's hands, though clearly washed, were stained almost to her elbows. "Who?" Lori finally asked, bracing her hands against the floor, not sure if she was prepared for the answer.

Carol didn't answer right away and Lori's heart skipped a beat before it began to hammer in her chest again.

"Rick?" She asked after a moment, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over and sliding down her cheeks. "Please, God," her throat tightened and the words barely made it around the lump swelling there.

"No, no," Carol shook her head and leaned in, her hand moving forward to cradle Lori's cheek. "T, it was T-Dog," her thumb swept over the trail of tears, drying the other woman's cheek. "We were separated. I haven't seen anyone else," she sat back again.

"I'm sorry," Lori whispered. "I shouldn't be relieved," she reached for Carol's hand but it was quickly pulled out of her reach.

Carol shook her head again. "I need these to be clean," she explained quickly. "And I need help."

Lori's head moved slowly as it moved from side to side. "It's too late, Carol. I can feel it-"

"You are not allowed to talk like that," Carol cut her off, her brows knitting as she turned her attention fully to the task at hand. "We need to keep you warm," she looked around the room and then let out a frustrated sigh, punctuated with a soft _damnit_. "I don't have anything, Lori." Carol pushed herself to her feet. "I need help."

Nodding, the brunette's lower lip wobbled as she fought back more tears. "Okay," she agreed, resolving herself to bravery. If she had survived this long, she could push through until Carol came back with help. Maybe, if she found Hershel she would actually stand a chance at making it through this. Maybe she would hold her baby and Carl again. She just needed to be brave.

Carol was already halfway up the steps when she looked over for her. The sight of her retreating back sent a shiver down her spine and she looked towards the windows to block it out. Maybe she really was dead, she mused. Maybe this was hell.

Maybe hell was rusted rotting pipes, _drip, drip, dripping_, lying in your own caked blood, and hope, just a little out of reach.


	2. Chapter 2

A squeaking door followed by commotion and voices sliced through the silence but Lori didn't have the energy to look over. She had drifted off to a place that felt comfortable. The pain in her abdomen had dulled then vanished, and the cold was gone too. She knew what it meant- that she was dying- but she was beyond concern.

Lori wasn't a doctor; she knew a little first aid and had picked up some tidbits of medical information from pop culture. But despite her limited knowledge, she knew that the body could only withstand so much blood loss before it went into hypovolemic shock.

Her thoughts swayed in another direction, towards the past. The night that Carl had been shot and Hershel had worked so hard to keep him alive until Shane got back. This time, there would be no Shane. There was so magical cure on its way. The few medical supplies that Carl had recovered from the infirmary had long since been used up on Hershel's leg.

Vaguely, she was aware of being touched and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. The contact tugged her back a little, away from the euphoric calm that had settled over her. She didn't want to go back- to the pain and the fear or to the cold. Her view of the windows was obstructed as someone leaned over her, and then hands were on her face, cradling her cheek, stroking her ear.

A smile began in her heart and warmed its way up to her mouth. She knew those hands. Those hands were gentle, loving, and tender. It occurred to her that it had been so long since she had last felt them, since they had reached out to her. Lori hadn't realized how badly she had longed to feel them again, and she closed her eyes to relish the moment.

_Open your eyes, Lori, baby. Hold on. _

The extent of that order wasn't lost on her. But somehow she complied and allowed herself to be pulled back, toward him. Her husband's face filled almost her entire field of view, his crystal eyes lit with tears. Tearing her eyes away she glanced slowly around the room, from Glenn, to Carol who had a roll of plastic kitchen wrap in her hands. Hershel stood over her shoulder and he was instructing her, to do what, Lori couldn't understand.

Lori's eyes sought out Carl, wrapped tightly in Beth's arms. She paused on his face and pondered the guilty expression, mixed with relief. His hand shook slightly where it rested on the hammer of his gun. Her own hand twitched and she longed to go to him and wrap him up in her arms and hold him.

_…lift you…_

Rick was telling her something and her eyes flicked back to his face. He was so close, his breath hot on her cheek. Curiously, she watched his mouth form words that she couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears.

The nod he sent to Carol and Glenn sent her hurtling into agony and a scream tore from her throat. There was something underneath her, pulling, tearing her in half. It only lasted a moment before darkness came. Then there was nothing.

XXXX

Rick watched in horror as Lori screamed in agony before going slack in his arms. Frantically, he looked over at Hershel who calmly watched as Glenn continued to jack-up Lori's body so that Carol could work.

"Hershel?" He asked, looking back down at Lori's face that was void of all colour.

"Check her pulse, Rick," the older man moved closer, his movements awkward and clumsy as he tried to negotiate his stump. Calmly, the older man rested his hand on Lori's chest, feeling the slight stuttering rise and fall. "She is still breathing," he drawled, his voice reassuring. "She probably just passed out from the pain."

Rick's blood stained fingers quickly traced along his wife's jaw line then dipped down until he found the spot to the right of her throat. Applying pressure, he held his breath and waited. The slow but steady pulse against his fingertips eased the pressure building in his chest. She was still alive, barely, but it was something. "I can feel it," Rick reluctantly pulled his fingers away. He sighed in relief and moved his hand over Lori's brow, pushing her hair back.

"Okay, Carol," Hershel spoke up, putting a hand on the slender woman's shoulder. "Wrap it tightly, so we can move her upstairs. Beth and Carl, I need you to have a room clear and ready for when we get there."

The two youngest members of the group wordlessly started up the stairs, Beth's arm still secured around Carl's shoulders. "Daryl, make sure they get there safely. We don't want any more crisis before we're done dealing with this one."

Daryl nodded in agreement. "And then I'm goin' on a run. Can't do much without no medical supplies and the baby's gonna need food. A buck ain't gonna do her much good and looks like her mama ain't either. Not for a while."

Looking up, Rick offered his wingman a grateful nod. "Take someone with you," he suggested. "Like Hershel said, we don't need another crisis," his eyes swept Lori's features again. When no one moved or said anything he looked up.

Carol was focused on wrapping Lori's abdomen, creating a plastic layer of skin that would hold her together while they moved her upstairs. Glenn watched her work, clearly avoiding meeting Rick's eyes.

"No hands left," Daryl spoke softly. "Maggie's with the baby. Glenn," he thrust his chin in the Asian's direction. "And T…"

"You're right," Rick smoothed Lori's cheek. "It will have to be me then," he conceded, pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead. He tried to ignore how cold and clammy it felt under his lips.

Daryl scoffed. "You stupid? Your place is here now," he said gruffly. "I'll be fine on my own. Just keep it so the trip ain't a waste of my time." With a last look he adjusted his crossbow on his shoulder and left, slamming the door behind him.

"What do we do now?" Carol asked, inspecting the plastic wrap for leaks. It seemed to be doing its job containing any further bleeding and had accomplished in pulling Lori's incision together concealing the majority of the damage to her uterus.

"We need to get her upstairs," Hershel informed them, using Carol's shoulder to get up. Wordlessly, Glenn got to his feet and stepped over Lori and helped the older man rise. "I need to tie off her uterus, or she'll just keep bleeding internally. Maggie will know what I need; maybe there is something left in the infirmary."

"She can't go alone," Glenn asserted. "This place is still crawling with Walkers. I'll go with her."

Rick looked away from the exchange back down to Lori. "You're going to be okay," he whispered, checking her pulse again. He kept his fingers on her pulse point and took her hand. "I'll carry her."

"I'm a crap shot," Glenn kneeled down on the other side of Lori's head. "You should cover us, I'll carry her," he offered, already sliding his arms under the unconscious woman's knees and shoulders. Slowly, he got to his feet, adjusting Lori in his arms.

Rick maintained his grip on his wife's hand and rose with her. He pressed a kiss to her fingers before laying her hand across her ribcage, and then positioned her head onto Glenn's shoulder. _I love you… please don't die. _

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**Up next is Daryl's POV. Also, if you haven't already please check out my story The Last Part and "Like" The Walking Dead fanfiction on facebook. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Please check out my other story 'The Last Part'.**

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"Why is she crying?" Carl asked as he jogged along beside Daryl, both his hands wrapped securely around his gun.

Daryl grunted in reply, putting his hand out on her shoulder to silently stop Beth from moving forward. He kept his voice low when he spoke. "Prob'ly hungry." Stealthily, he peeked around the corner towards the door that would take them into their cellblock. A mass of Walkers clawed at the door and each other in an attempt to get in. "Shit," he cursed. "And drawin' more attention than we need," he mused, not amused at all. "Maggie best shut'er up or she's gonne have the whole damn prison on us."

"She's a newborn…" Beth piped in, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. She shrugged shyly when Daryl shot her an impatient look. "I'm just sayin'… Maggie's probably doing the best she can."

"I count fourteen," Carl looked to Daryl and then checked the clip in his gun. "I've only got three rounds left."

Daryl didn't look at the boy. He'd assumed the kid was out of ammo, on account of how he'd failed to take care of his business in the basement. If they'd been any less lucky- which still remained to be seen- they'd have another Walker to deal with. Daryl didn't envy the kid's position, but he didn't have too many excuses for it either. Shit needed to get done, and they needed people to do it. He and Rick couldn't make all the hard calls.

"If they're attracted to the sound of the baby, doesn't that mean that they are all here?" Beth asked, her eyes sweeping the hall behind them.

"So?" Daryl muttered, pulling his knife out of his pocket. He only had a couple arrows left, they were gonna have to go hand to hand.

Carl's face lit up. "That means this is all that's left. So they aren't lurking in the halls anymore. We can go find some weapons… some pipes, a fire axe or something. They're kind of crowded over there, not much room to move. We could take them out."

"Yeah, if we had Rick and Maggie- people who know what the hell they're doing," Daryl looked at the two kids. Beth could barely swing a hammer and hit a nail on the head, never mind fend of an advancing walker while taking out another. And Carl was a little better but not much. He was fine behind a gun, but he didn't have much height to him, yet. Not to mention that he scared easy. "Nah, we're gonna have to find another way in. Pick these Walkers off after we've had a chance to regroup."

"We could try going around through the other entrance. I know the way," Carl had already taken Beth's hand and was pulling her back towards the boiler room.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Daryl nodded and followed. "We can take 'em out through the bars," he agreed. "Can't swarm us that way."

The trio carried on without speaking, Carl leading the way, one hand still wrapped securely around Beth's. He kept his gun pointed ahead of him as he checked each corner and hallway before moving forward. Daryl watched the boy's movements, the stock of his crossbow snug against his own shoulder, his finger resting on the trigger. He'd need to backtrack and collect arrows before heading out to find baby formula and medical supplies.

As they approached the steel door- the only thing separating them from their destination, Carl halted. "Walker," he whispered, looking behind him.

"Looks like just the one," Daryl stepped between the two kids, breaking their hands apart. "I got this," he said, handing his crossbow to Beth who fumbled as she took it. He pulled out his hunting knife in one motion and moved quietly along the wall, listening for the sounds of any other bastards that could be lurking in the shadows. Careful not to make a sound he was less than three feet away from the dead prisoner when it became aware of his presence. It was already too late for it to react, though, because Daryl had already plunged the knife into the base of its skull. He felt the bone pop and then crunch as it gave way to his blade and then the tacky splash of decaying blood as it sprayed back over his hand. He yanked his blade free and pushed the corpse forward with a satisfying thud.

"Let's go," he said over his shoulder and pushed his way into the first set of doors leading to C-Block. Using his bloody fist he banged on the door. "Maggie, open up."

The door was yanked open in a matter of seconds and Carl, Daryl, and Beth filed in. Carl, who was the last one, pushed the door shut again and locked it. The small group stood without saying anything, surrounded by the sound of growling, wheezing Walkers, and a wailing infant.

XXXX

Maggie was the first to speak. "Is she d-…" her eyes sliced sideways to look at Carl. The pre-teen looked away ashamed, his freckles standing out against his pale features. "Alive?" She finished, rubbing the tiny baby girl's back, trying to soothe her cries.

"Last we saw, yeah, barely," Daryl took his crossbow from Beth and set it on the floor before stalking away. "Check T-Dog's cell, Carl," he ordered, picking up a makeshift spear that had been discarded next to Rick's mattress on the floor. "See if you can find that sharpened pipe o' his. 'l do just fine for this."

Maggie looked up from the red-faced infant whose wails shook her entire tiny body. "You're going to take them out through the gate?" She asked, following Daryl with Beth on her heels.

When the redneck didn't answer her she looked to Carl who was coming down the stairs from the upper cells, a pipe and another spear in hand. "Here," Maggie turned to Beth and held out the baby.

Her little sister took a step back, putting up her hands defensively. "No way," she shook her head, blue eyes wide.

"Beth, take her. Just support her head and rock her, you'll do fine." Without giving the blonde a chance to object further, Maggie pushed the baby into her arms. Beth's arms automatically adjusted to support the newborn, one hand securing itself under her bum and the other moving to the back of her head. "See? You're a natural," Maggie assured her, taking the spear from Carl. "Just bounce her real light and rock."

"She's still crying," Beth complained as her pretty features twisted in an anxious expression.

Maggie shrugged one shoulder and moved with Carl towards the gate where Daryl was already taking out Walkers. "Tell me about it."

It felt good to drive the metal rod through the first Walker's head. She grunted in satisfaction as she struck brain and then again when she pulled the spike out, ramming its head into the bars in the process. Crying babies were not her thing. She felt bad for the poor little thing, but she felt equally burdened by it. She mentally crossed her fingers that Lori would pull through this and take up responsibility for the baby that she had brought into the world.

As she delivered a blow to the next Walker she thought back to the Farm when she had tossed the Morning After pills in Lori's face. She wondered briefly if her actions had played a part in Lori deciding to keep the baby. Maybe she had unintentionally played a hand in the other woman's death. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another satisfying _CRUNCH_ as a prison guard's skull caved in under the pressure of her weapon.

_Probable death, _Maggie reminded herself. Carl had lied to her.

The boy called dibs on the last Walker and she watched as he jammed his weapon under its jaw and then, with a final thrust that held surprising power, pushed it up through its brain. A small smile played across the Carl's face and he looked to Daryl for what Maggie assumed was approval. But the man didn't even cast a second look at him as he surveyed the carnage before them.

"We'll have to clean this up to make room for the others when they come," he turned around. "I gotta go. You guys take care o' it. Stack 'em on the side for now. We'll deal with it later. Don't go outside. Who knows what's out there."

"Where are you going?" Maggie asked, retrieving the keys from the stairs. She handed them to Carl who took the heavy ring in his hands then jogged back over to the doors.

"We need medical stuff and Hershel said the baby's gotta eat. Need'ta find a hospital or something, or a store," he said, his tone belying his impatience with the conversation. He didn't wait for her to say anything else before picking up his crossbow and pocketing his hunting knife. He passed Carl on his way out and gave the boy a soft but solid punch to the shoulder. "Better put somethin' on that baby's ass before it shits everywhere," he said, slamming the door behind him.

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Tiger: Thanks so much for your comments! I love hearing from you every time. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

LAJB: I hope that you know how much I appreciate your support and feedback. It has been awesome to have someone to bounce ideas off. Thanks Lady.

TMY'reSY: First of all, love your username, it's adorable. Secondly, thanks for sending me a review. I am glad you like the story. It's nice to put a name to one of those anonymous views. Cheers. Hope to hear from you again.

LDL: Hi Jessica, thanks for your comments and encouragement. I am glad you liked the earlier chapters. I hope the story is still moving in a direction that appeals to you.

TWDGuest: You piped in right when I was about to throw this out. Thanks for sending the encouragement when I needed it. It means a lot to me.

Jemlou: Thanks for favouriting my story. I am glad that you like it and I hope to hear your thoughts.

Ckrets: I haven't heard from you for a while, but I hope you're still enjoying the fic. :) I have so much respect for your work, so if you have any suggestions I would love to hear them.


	4. Chapter 4

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Rick led the tiny group down the hall, alert and ready to defend against an ambush. He listened to the sound of Lori's strained and shallow breaths and the punctuating click of Hershel's crutches. They reached C-Block without incident and Rick tapped on the door with his foot. He heard scuffling on the other side, then the rattling of keys. The door opened and his son stepped back, holding it with his arm. "The one next to Hershel's," he told them, casting a nervous look towards his mother. "Dad?"

Carl looked to him and Rick folded his son into a quick hug. In that moment he realized how long it had been since he had last held his boy and he was surprised by how much Carl had grown. Long gone were spindly limbs and slender shoulders. They had been replaced by the body of a young man, thicker and more solid. Rick's hands rested on those shoulders now and he pushed his son back to look at him, stooping a little to meet Carl's eyes. "She's alive. Glenn and Maggie are going back to the infirmary, in case there is anything left."

Glenn quirked a small smile in the boy's direction before passing through the doors, Lori still draped in his arms. Rick left Carl to lock them in again and followed Glenn, Carol, and Hershel into the cell. He stood back and watched as Lori was laid carefully onto the bottom bunk, where Carol quickly moved into place to tend to her, her hands working quickly but gently over the plastic wrap.

"Do you know her blood type?" Hershel asked. "It would be best if we could transfuse her," he said, taking a seat next to the bed.

Guilt sent a pang through his chest and Rick shook his head. "No, I don't know…" He looked to the woman who he had been married to for over a decade. She was so pale, like porcelain, her face wane and waxy. He wondered how the hell she could be alive when she looked so close to death. He moved forward and kneeled at the end of the bed, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and he closed one hand around her ankle. He felt rocked by fear, and he knew that there was a very good chance that she wouldn't survive this, but part of him couldn't fathom that she wouldn't. How could there be a time when he wouldn't hear her voice anymore, or see her smile. Have her arms slide around him from behind as she whispered into his ear. The mere thought of never again knowing that feeling made him feel so alone and isolated, like no one would ever be able to reach him again.

The first sob that broke free from his chest was barely a whimper. The second came in a rush of air, his throat like a fist.

_Oh God._

As his insides crumbled his exterior followed suit and his body folded in on itself until his upper body was lying across her legs.

_Please_.

He was vaguely aware of the sound of Hershel speaking softly with Maggie and Glenn. Turning his face into Lori's shins, he blocked out the sound of their voices. He needed time to pull himself together and he needed solitude to do it. It seemed that his energy reserves had depleted so rapidly over the course of the last few hours. He felt like the generator tanks back at the CDC- running on fumes. He was counting down to an explosion that would surely take them all down with him.

The young couple was gone by the time he had pulled himself together enough to sit up, wiping one hand over his face. Carol had placed a pillow under Lori's head and was draping a blanket over her. "Will she wake up?" Rick asked, knee-walking around the bed to take his wife's hand.

"There's no way to tell," Hershel answered.

"If she does, she'll be in pain," Rick smoothed one hand over Lori's clammy cheek, pushing her hair back. When she didn't respond, her stillness served to deepen his fear, nearly jackknifing him again. He left one hand to linger on her cheek and then closed the other one around hers; his finger's brushed her wedding band in the process. Hershel didn't have a chance to answer before Beth came to the door.

"Rick?" The young woman looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes blue eyes. "She won't stop crying, and I don't know what to do," her voice broke and she looked at him ashamed, holding the newborn to her chest.

He felt his body tense at the sight of the squirming pink baby and he looked back down at Lori. He felt anger lick through him like flames but it extinguished quickly. Lori would not want him to blame anyone, least of all the one who was the most innocent among them. He released his hold on his wife's hand and turned to Beth who stepped forward and laid the baby in the makeshift cradle of his open arms. The young woman hesitated for a moment and then retreated quickly, her shoulders slumped.

"Beth, I need to speak with you," Hershel called after her. Obediently, Beth turned around and came back to help her father rise.

When he was alone, Rick turned his attention to the tiny girl in his arms and felt his heart racing.

_Beautiful. _

She looked just like her mother. Her eyes were squeezed shut so he couldn't see them, but he hoped that she had inherited her mother's earthy tones. The soft wisps of hair were soft and thin, barely concealing any part of her scalp. She had been washed and he would have to thank the Greene daughters for that later. Rick watched her tiny fists flail helplessly, colliding with her button nose as she raged at the world. His heart clenched and he closed one hand around hers to still her assault on herself. It had been so long since he had held anything so fragile- since he had felt his hands shaking in concentration as he tried to be impossibly gentle.

_Shhhhh._

He bounced her lightly and curled her into his chest, the new position muffling her wails. The bouncing turned to a sway, his body rocking back and forth as he found her rhythm, like both he and Lori had done with Carl for hours on end thirteen years before. Back then Carl had been colicky and inconsolable. The baby in his arms now, though, quieted, her cries softening to a gentle _mew_. "That's right," he whispered, kissing her downy head.

_Daddy's here. _

XXXX

His chopper pounded underneath him and Daryl relished in the fresh air. He kept vigilant, watching carefully for the herd that he knew had been moving through the area. He figured he would scout east first, since the group hadn't picked through there yet. Then he would head back south, toward the farm. If all else failed he knew they had abandoned medical supplies there that last night. He pushed the throttle, knowing that he was on a time limit. The baby would only live so long without food, and Lori- well Lori probably wouldn't live at all no matter what they did, the way she was bleedin'. Like a stuck pig in a slaughterhouse. He was surprised she had any blood left in her at all.

Pushing the image out of his head, he pressed on, swerving around the debris that had been left scattered across the highway.

He slowed at the traffic snarl ahead and pulled to a stop, using one leg to brace his bike. He'd have to drive up the shoulder, which would leave him pretty exposed to the woods that lined the road. He turned his bike and moved slowly around a minivan and then cut back across to weave between another two vehicles. He hoped it wouldn't be so tight all the way up or he would never get back in time.

The process was slow but successful. Daryl had managed to collect several bottles of antibiotics and a partial first aid kit. Pausing next to one car he peered in the window before smashing it. The smell of death and puke wafted out and he leaned back to take a breath and then popped the lock. The door groaned as it swung back on rusty hinges. Pursing his lips he inspected the thing that had drawn his attention, a baby seat. The baby inside it had been dead for a long time and was mostly decomposed, its skin blackened and sliding away from its frame, exposing pearly skeleton.

Turning away from the corpse he looked around the car cab until he spotted what he was looking for and picked it up. Opening the soft yellow bag he pulled out a handful of diapers to look at the other items. He found a can of powdered formula that was almost empty and some clothes. The little pink dress and hat seemed pretty small to Daryl, but so did Lori's baby so he figured it would work. Lori would like it, he thought, and stuffed it back into the bag. The car didn't have much else that seemed useful to him, and against his better judgment he picked up a yellow stuffed duck from the floor of the car. The thing would probably be a waste of space and he considered tossing it back into the seat with the rotting baby, but then stopped.

Sophia had carried that stupid doll of hers around everywhere she went, clutched in her long thin arms.

_Jesus Christ_, he cursed, stuffing the damn duck into the bag and taking it with him.

The sun was dropping behind the tops of the trees and Daryl had given up on speed. The highway was too densely packed with debris and abandoned vehicles, and the mess stretched out for as far as he could see in both directions. He had abandoned his bike further back and was picking along on foot. He'd taken to leaving empty water bottles as markers on the roofs of the cars that he wanted to loot on the way back. He was considering turning around when something caught his eye further up.

The fading sunlight glinted on orange reflectors and Daryl picked up his pace. The ambulance sat half-assed in the ditch on the side of the road. The cab rocked back and forth as Daryl approached it and he raised his crossbow. He reached up and gave the back window a heavy smack with his palm then took a step back as something smashed hard against the inside.

Moving on the balls of his feet Daryl flicked the handle then leapt back as the doors burst open, smashing against their hinges. The first Walker went down easy as an arrow sailed smoothly through the spot between its eyes. The second and third advanced slowly on him slowly, stumbling down from the back of the ambulance. Daryl barely had time to reload before they were on him. He took out what used to be an EMT with another arrow before discarding his crossbow and pulling out his knife. The second EMT snarled, missing Daryl's hand by a minner's peter with its teeth.

"Come on, you son of a bitch," Daryl muttered, avoiding the things curled, lashing fingers. He kicked out, his foot colliding with the Walker's knee, satisfied as the bone split under the pressure. The Walker went down, its leg barely held together, though it seemed unfazed as it continued to reach for him. At his new vantage point, Daryl drove his knife into the crown of its head and it immediately went slack, gravity pulling it downwards until it slid off the end of his blade.

The road was silent again and Daryl looked around to make sure that he hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. Seeing that he was alone, he picked up his crossbow and looked over his new ride.

* * *

Tiger: Thanks for your review. You're amazing for taking the time to comment each time. I hope they find what they need too. :) And that Daryl even knows what he is looking for. Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

GMSR: Welcome to my story! Thank you for being so great and reviewing every chapter. What a lovely surprise to find in my inbox today. I appreciate your suggestions and I hope to hear from you again.

LAJB: I know. I was a little surprised that Rick didn't know Lori's blood type too. But it just seemed right in the moment for their relationship. I wanted to illustrate the distance between them, and show that it isn't necessarily something new. But I think their… distance isn't a reflection of their degree of love for one another. I see that they love one another very much, in a very mature and comfortable ways that we don't see very often on t.v.

Jemlou: It was so good to hear from you. Thank you so much for taking the time to review. :) Don't worry, I know all too well how it goes. Trying to find the balance between putting your own work out there while also reading others' and supporting them. There are only so many hours in a day that we can spend on fan fiction. The last chapter was my favourite too. I felt very much in the zone while writing it. Hopefully I can get back there someday. So glad you are enjoying the story and I do hope that you get a chance to comment again. I appreciate the feedback and encouragement.

Tiger: That baby, lol. I thought she would be the death of me. It was hard for me to write her in a believable way that didn't diminish her to being a prop with no personality. It makes me happy that the chapter lightened the tone enough for some squees. :) As always, it was wonderful to hear from you.

GMSR: No big deal about the pic. Really, I just thought it looked awkward. Plus, I want to steal it back. You know how I feel about writing babies, so your positive comments gave me a happy. Thanks hon. I wish it was canon too. Especially after last nights episode. Can I get a WTF?

TMY'reSY: It was good to hear from you. Nice to know that you enjoyed the chapter. I think it's pretty cute myself. Hope you like this one too. Let me know.

TWDGuest: Thank you! That line was playing in my head over and over again and I couldn't make a decision about whether to commit to it or not. I just wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not. It was good to hear from you again. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Cheers!

TWDBrazil: Obrigado por comentar sobre a minha história. Eu estou usando um tradutor, então, por favor, perdoe-me se estiver errado. Eu vejo que você escreveu para mim em português, mas que são do Brasil. Então, eu não tenho certeza se eu deveria responder em português ou espanhol. Deixe-me saber o que você preferir. Foi maravilhoso ouvir de você e eu estou feliz que você gosta da história. Espero que gostem deste capítulo também.


	5. Chapter 5

**Maggie & Carol**

* * *

Maggie's hand was tucked into Glenn's as they walked to the infirmary. They hadn't come across any Walkers so far and she was grateful. The halls were still splashed with both fresh crimson and rusty aged blood. She felt bone weary and wanted nothing more than to curl up into her and Glenn's squeaky bunk and sleep. Unfortunately, there was still a lot that needed to be done. They needed to go to the infirmary and then swing back towards the cafeteria. Glenn had recalled seeing some powdered milk there and suggested that it might do for the baby.

Maggie could feel his eyes on her as they walked. He tried to be subtle about it, but she knew that he was watching her. She also knew that he wanted to talk, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him.

When he tugged on her hand in a gesture to stop her forward momentum she shook her head. "Daddy said if he doesn't stitch Lori up soon it will be too late. The chance of infection will be too high."

Glenn masked his disappointment at her rejection well, but she could see it in his eyes and brisk nod.

"We'll- I'll talk later," she finally said, stopping outside of the infirmary doors. The window had been smashed so it could be unlocked from the inside. Carl must have done it their second day in the prison when he had snuck away from the rest of them.

Glenn nodded and pushed open the door, then indicated for her to go ahead of him. The infirmary was a mess. The entire place was littered with broken glass, scattered papers and overturned furniture. Maggie's first stop was a shelving unit with several empty boxes on it. She continued to search cupboards while Glenn took the other side of the room.

She heard a door open and she turned to see her partner pushing his way into an office space. Turning back to her own task she picked up loose packets of gauze and a box of sterile gloves. Her search was interrupted by a whistle from the other room.

"Hello motherlode," Glenn said loudly enough for her to hear. "Found the medicine storage," he announced.

Maggie followed his earlier path and entered the office behind him. "Carl probably didn't see it," she said, observing the solid wood inset. Peering over Glenn's shoulder she inspected the almost untouched stash of medicine bottles. "Jackpot," she grinned, barely containing her excitement as she threw her arms around Glenn's shoulders. "Pack them up. And get the saline bags too."

The young woman pressed a kiss to the back of his head and moved around him to search the surrounding cabinets. They contained several rolls of gauze and medical tape, and a box of I.V and suture kits. As she loaded the supplies into her bag, Maggie felt hopeful that they would be able to get Lori through this. Light illuminated the darkness inside of her and she felt overwhelmed by relief. Her emotions manifested themselves as tears, building in her eyes and as hard as she tried, she couldn't hold them back.

The first tear slid down her face and then a second before the damn broke. Glenn must have sensed her distress because he was at her side in an instant closing his arms around her trembling form.

"We don't have time for this," she ground out, frustrated with herself.

Glenn didn't ease his grip on her when she pushed away from him, determined to pull herself together. "Let me be strong for you," he whispered as one of his hands came to cradle the back of her head. Her tears flowed silently, soaking the fabric of his shirt, and she clung to him.

"I sliced her open. I ripped her apart, she begged me to but she, god, she screamed and then...I left her there," she said, her voice thick with tears. "I thought she was dead and I thought Carl had… but she wasn't. He didn't."

She felt Glenn rubbing her back, "It wasn't your fault, Maggie. The baby is alive because you were so brave. You couldn't have known. None of this is your fault." His tone was soothing and even as he spoke.

Slowly Maggie pushed away from him to look him in the eye, "How can that be true," she swallowed hard. "That day at the farm, the look on her face when I threw those pills at her." Maggie had barely known Lori back then. The group had only been on the farm for a few days when Lori had discovered her pregnancy and asked Glenn to help her. Maggie had been so angry that the errand had put both her's and Glenn's lives in danger that she had lashed out at the older woman.

"Lori chose to keep the baby, Maggie," Glenn's spoke with so much conviction that it was hard to not believe him.

She looked down at her hands and nodded. You're right," she conceded in a long exhale. "I'm just exhausted."

"Let's get back then. Hershel and Carol will need to get to work before there isn't any light left," he reached for her hand and Maggie let him take it. "We'll come back and clean the rest of this out later, okay?"

Maggie nodded again and allowed herself to be led towards the cafeteria.

XXXX

Carol nervously glanced at the fading sunlight through the large windows opposite the cells. "We'll need flashlights or something soon," she told Hershel who was carefully cutting away the plastic wrap that had been holding Lori together for hours now.

Hershel looked at the windows too and nodded in agreement. "And someone with a steady hand to hold them still."

"How long will it take for you to repair the damage," Carol winced as the plastic was pulled back, allowing Lori's belly to spread open, revealing purple tissue and pooled blood. Some of the clots that had formed tore away and began to bleed again. Carol was ready with some packing gauze which she used to clear the area to that Hershel could work.

"Maybe we should have given the coagulants more time," she said, leaning back to give the ex-vet room to work.

"I'm afraid she's out of time," Hershel nodded to the incision. "Pull her skin back, so I can see."

Carol leaned in and hesitated before placing her hands over the site, unsure of how to proceed. Finally she used her thumb and forefingers as clamps and drew the flaps back. She had expected the skin to move easily, but it was stiff like cooling wax in her hands. She had to apply more pressure and guide it back, exposing Lori's insides.

Hershel worked confidently as he guided the uterus upwards. Carol had already placed the needle, clamp, and thread on the bed and the old man picked them up. He inspected the materials briefly before getting to work. Carol watched Lori's face, looking for any signs of consciousness. When she saw none she returned her eyes to check on Hershel's progress. He was working quietly and meticulously as he worked his way over the severed tissue, his breath coming in long even exhalations.

"I'm going to need that flashlight, Carol," he said picking up the vinegar bottle that they had rinsed to use for the saline. He flushed the area and inspected his work.

Carol released her traction and pushed herself to her feet without using her hands. Peeking her head out into the hall, her eyes settled on Rick and Carl, the latter of whom was getting a lesson on how to hold his baby sister. A small smile formed on Carol's lips as she watched the boy interact with the baby, his face illuminated with curiosity and intrigue.

Sophia would have adored having a baby around, Carol knew. She had been such a sweet and nurturing girl.

"Can I try feeding her again?" Carl asked as he picked up the cloth icing bag that Maggie and Glenn had brought back from the cafeteria with them. The bag wasn't great, but it was better than any other option they had. By clipping the end of it with a medical clamp, Rick was able to control the flow of the powdered milk.

The baby had gone almost a day without anything to eat and had drunk greedily when the bag had first been placed to her mouth. Rick, whose arm was secured tightly around his son's shoulders, nodded and helped the boy pour the water and powder concoction into the bag. The sound of suckling filled the air and Carol closed her eyes to drift back to a memory of her own baby.

_No_.

She shook herself lightly. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Carol cleared her throat. "Rick? We could use a hand in here," she told him when he looked up.

Rick looked to his son who nodded, not taking his eyes off his baby sister. Lifting his arm off Carl, Rick gave the baby's foot a gentle squeeze then pushed himself to his feet.

"We need more light," Carol said when he arrived at her side. "I was hoping you could hold a flashlight, or someone else if it's too much."

"She's my wife," Rick was already moving towards the cell that they had designated as the supply room.

Carol watched the man go, admiring his strength. In spite of everything he had stepped up for the sake of his family. She respected that in a man. Her thoughts turned to Daryl, who had impressed her today as well. She looked to the window, a touch concerned that he hadn't returned yet- but sure that he would.

She turned around and ducked back into the cell where Hershel was still working on closing Lori up.

"She's strong," he said, looking at the unconscious woman affectionately. "I knew it the first day I saw her. How she held it together when Carl was shot. All these months through the winter. Pregnant, and the distance between her and Rick. Carl, too… It's not an obvious kind of strength, but it's there."

Carol took a seat beside their designated surgeon and looked at his work. He had stitched a long railroad track across her abdomen shaped like a wobbly smile. It wasn't pretty, but if it kept her alive it didn't matter. "I know," Carol agreed, slipping off her gloves. She took Lori's cold slender fingers in hers. "This shouldn't have happened to her."

She heard a small click from behind her and a beam of artificial light cut through the growing darkness. She accepted one of the lights when Rick passed it over her shoulder and he turned the other one on. They both held their lights onto Lori's abdomen where Hershel was putting in a final set of stitches.

"We'll start her on antibiotics right away and we'll have to keep the area clean," Carol looked at Rick over her shoulder. He looked exhausted as he peered underneath the bunk at his wife. She watched his face for a moment: the tight thin line of his mouth, the soft crinkles around his eyes, and she felt the need to comfort him. Reaching over she took his forearm and his eyes whipped over to meet hers. "Sit with her," she offered, getting up from her seat.

Rick rejected her offer, though weakly, recoiling from the seat. It took only her hand on his shoulder, pushing him down into her vacated spot to make the weary man comply.

"I'll get Beth," Carol offered, placing her flashlight into Rick's empty hand. "We can do the transfusion tonight, so she can have time to rest and recover. In case we need to do another one tomorrow."

Rick looked to her, then Hershel, then back to her. "We don't know Lori's blood type. Won't that be dangerous?" He asked.

"Beth is a Universal Donor. Type specific would be ideal," Hershel clipped the thread on his final stitch and leaned back to inspect his work. "But under the circumstances it will do just fine."

Carol watched as Rick abandoned the flashlights on the bed next to Lori's hip. He reached for Hershel- his hand landing on the older mans forearm, and then Carol, taking her wrist. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you both."

* * *

Tiger: So good to hear from you, as always. Glad that you feel that the chapter reflects the style of the show because that has been my goal throughout this piece.

GMSR: I actually kind of like trying to figure out interesting ways to kill the walkers. Here is the answer to who is up next. Let me know what you think, please and thank you.

Alexis: Thanks for your review. I am glad you had a chance to check it out and I really appreciate your support. I don't really read AU either. I think this is more of a divergent storyline though, rather than a full on AU… I am moving into acceptance about Lori's death but I know I will miss her a lot on the show.

Super2: Thanks so much bro for the review. Glad you could stop by and that you like the story so far. I am excited to further explore Rick's thoughts regarding the baby in a few chapters. I hope to hear from you again. Enjoy. :)

LAJB: I think you're totally right, the last chapter could have been a stand alone. I do try to reflect the pace of the show by writing short "scene-like" chapters. I want to work with Carol and Daryl in a little bit. When it feels right I will. Thanks for reading and being so supportive. You're awesome.

Super2: Thanks for commenting. I think it is interesting when I keep things complicated, especially when exploring emotional depth. I feel compassionate towards her though. I can't imagine facing such a dilemma.

TMY'reSY: Ha-ha, I have a feeling Maggie would disagree with you on that one in this particular context. :) Though I am sure the outcome would be different. Glad you like the chapter and thanks so much for taking the time to review.

Tiger: I was so nervous about this chapter! I kept tweaking it and I couldn't seem to get the right tone, so I decided to bite the bullet and just put it out there. Happy that you think that it worked. I think so much in TWD is unsaid, and it's left up for the viewers to dissect and explore on their own. So I am trying to reach a certain amount of depth without exposing everything. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Thanks for you support, as always.

LAJB: I totally see what you mean! My dialogue does lose something because I am misusing or omitting punctuation. Thanks so much for pointing that out. I will be sure to keep an eye on it for future chapters. Much appreciated. Also, thanks for looking this one over. Enjoy.


	6. Chapter 6

The prison was quiet around him and Rick felt grateful for the time alone. He had volunteered to sit with Lori first, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. She still looked deathly pale against the white pillow that her head rested on, but he knew that her colouring had improved since the blood transfusion. She already seemed less frail and her breathing had evened out, too.

He glanced upwards to the top bunk and smiled at the boy, whose arm was draped freely over the side of the bed, his fingers curled at the tips. Carl had refused to allow his mother out of his sight throughout the day and had insisted that he wasn't tired after everyone else had turned in. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep though after everything went quiet, his arms propped up on the foot of Lori's bed. Rick had lifted the boy easily and placed him on the top bunk where he had curled into himself, pushed beyond endurance.

A small whimper turned his attention away from the bunk towards the wooden box beside him. Carl and Maggie had carefully padded the fruit delivery crate with a few pillows and the blanket from Lori's bed in her cell upstairs. The baby had been sleeping quietly in her makeshift cradle for a couple of hours, satisfied so far with the powdered milk they had given her.

Rick hoped that Daryl would return soon with some real formula; powdered milk didn't have the nutritional value required by the baby. Reaching down Rick used his pinky to stroke the little girl's soft rounded cheek and he admired her little ears. She had the same ears as Carl; the ones that Lori had insisted were form her father. He remembered with a fond smile the little game they'd played through the early years of their son's life. They would debate, sometimes heatedly- but always in good humour- about where he had gotten his finer features from. And then assign blame to the other's side of the family for his extra runny nose and turbulent disposition.

The baby girl stirred again and Rick picked her up. Her eyes were open, but it was too dark for Rick to pick out their colour. She looked up at him through the blurry unfocused gaze of any infant and whimpered again, her brow pinching- Lori's brow.

He looked for himself in the baby. He couldn't help it. He would allow himself this one time where he would question her paternity.

When he couldn't pick out a single that that he may have passed onto her, his mind investigated the other option. Her chin could be Shane's or the shape of her eyes. Rick tilted his head, examining more closely. If they were Shane's…

_If…_

...If they were Shane's eyes or hands or his mouth, it didn't matter. It would never matter. It wouldn't be the eyes of the man who had pulled a gun on him that last night on the farm, or the mouth that spat venom and hateful words. Nor the hands that had killed Otis and Randall in cold blood.

They would reflect the rough and loyal boy who had insisted every day at lunch through elementary school that Rick be allowed to join the soccer game. And the mischievous teen who had sat tight-lipped on the other side of the principal's desk, swearing that no one else had been in on the prank that flooded cafeteria, while Rick hid the evidence of their crime. The young man who stood at his side during his wedding to Lori, who had wordlessly had a handkerchief ready for him when she first appeared at the other end of the aisle. That was the man who had given them this beautiful gift.

_Maybe. _

The baby had settled again against her father's chest, her face tucked into the side of his neck. She breathed evenly through her nose, one walnut sized fist curled against her cheek.

Headlights splashed against the windows, projecting the bars against the back wall of the cell. Rick got to his feet and picked up the heavy ring of keys. He unlocked the large doors quietly and listened for the sound of anyone else having been disturbed. When he heard nothing he made his way outside, the baby still cradled in his arms. Daryl was picking off a couple of Walkers that had been attracted to the- Rick did a double take. Ambulance.

His muscles twitched in a natural reaction, readying his body to join the fight. But he stayed back, conscious of the fragile little girl resting against him. Rick stepped back into the shadows to avoid drawing attention to himself and he watched Daryl easily manage the small pack.

"All clear," Daryl called out, his voice controlled so it wouldn't attract any Walkers that may have been left over in the yard.

Rick stepped out into the night and walked carefully down the stairs, mindful that he didn't trip. It had been years since he'd had any practice maneuvering with a baby in his arms. As he approached the ambulance Daryl was busy wiping his boot on the back tire. Rick looked down to the Walker closest to him and his lips curled at the side of its head smashed into the pavement, brains and rotting tissue mixed in with loose gravel. He turned his attention back to the rig. "Where'd you get this?"

"Out on the highway," Daryl said, picking a bone fragment out of his treads. He tossed it to the side and put his foot back down. "Quiet," he nodded to the baby.

Rick smoothed one hand over the infant's back. "We fed her some powdered milk. Did you find formula?"

"Found a shit load of supplies," Daryl led Rick around the back of the ambulance and opened the back doors. "Cleaned out some cars on the highway, we can sort through it tomorrow," he picked up a soft yellow bag. "Lori?"

They closed the doors and fell into step with one another as they headed back inside. "Holding up," Rick answered. "Maggie and Daryl found a supply room or something in the infirmary. Hershel stitched her up and Beth gave her some blood."

"She wake up?" Daryl looped the bag over his shoulder and took the keys from Rick's hand. Rick shook his head and they walked side-by-side into C-Block.

When they found themselves standing just outside of Lori's cell, Rick turned to thank the other man, but was silenced by a hand on his shoulder. "Let me take her for a bit," Daryl offered, putting his hands out for the baby.

Surprised, Rick hesitated, unsure if Daryl was kidding. After a brief inspection of his face- and finding no trace of humour, Rick nodded and carefully passed over the baby. He was surprised again to find no awkwardness in the way that Daryl moved to accommodate the little bundle, his arms easily supporting her head and trunk.

"We need some alone time, don't we sweetheart?" Daryl whispered to the baby, walking towards the stairs. "Time to get to know Uncle Daryl."

Rick watched both dumfounded and amused at the sight of their resident badass cooing at the less-than-a-day-old baby in his arms, a soft yellow diaper bag slung over his shoulder in place of his trademark crossbow. He gave his head a shake then turned and stepped back in to check on Lori.

* * *

Daryl sat down on the thin mattress on the floor that he had been using as his bed. He laid the baby down on her back, his legs on either side of her. She was awake now, her uncoordinated limbs jerking wildly and her eyes searching the room around her. Daryl opened the yellow bag that he'd found on the highway and pulled out a box of wipes. He cleaned the grime, blood and motor oil off his hands then turned his attention back to the baby.

"You hungry?" He asked her, running his now clean forefinger over her cheek. She responded to the stimulation and turned her face, seeking his finger. When she found his finger she latched onto its tip with her pink little lips. "Good thing I got somethin' for ya," he pulled his hand back. "But first we gotta get'cha pretty."

Reaching back into the bag, Daryl pulled out a diaper and the clothes that had been shoved into the bag. He decided on the little dress he had first discovered and the matching hat. Turning back to the baby, he opened her blanket to expose a cloth that had been fastened around her bottom with a couple of 'gator clips. He was impressed with the group's ingenuity, but he knew from experience that that wouldn't do much once her system really started working. Scooping the baby up from between her ankles he lifted her bottom up and cleaned her off before securing a disposable diaper around her.

He inspected the diaper to make sure it was fitting right and then made quick work of putting the dress over her head. She fussed a little as he carefully pulled her arms through the sleeves, but settled when he lifted her to his chest so he could fasten the little pearl buttons on the back. He held the baby out and inspected his handiwork. The dress was a little big but she would grow into it in time.

His brow furrowed and he frowned when he inspected her curled feet that were tinted blue. Laying her back down, Daryl looked through the bag and pulled out a tiny pair of folded socks. He slipped them over her toes and pulled them up.

"How's that?" He asked picking her up again and laying her in the crook of his arm. "Almost human, yeah? Let's get you some food," he told her, lifting out the can of formula. He continued to mutter nonsense to the baby while he prepared a bottle one-handed, using the water from next to his mattress. She closed her mouth happily around the nipple of the bottle and sucked, falling into an easy rhythm, her eyes drifting closed.

"Well isn't this a sight," a soft female voice drifted out from the wall of shadows that made up Carol's cell. He heard the rustling of clothes and then a zipper before she appeared, pale and clearly still exhausted. "Baby looks good on you, Dixon," she told him, descending the stairs to join him on the catwalk. She kneeled next to him, her knees barely touching the mattress.

Daryl looked at the baby to avoid meeting the woman's eyes. "Wanna hold her?" He offered the baby up, suddenly self-conscious.

Carol shook her head and held up a hand to stop him from passing her the baby. "I should go check on Lori," she pushed herself easily to her feet.

Daryl watched her, the way her slender hands wound themselves around her waist. She was giving him that look again- the one that he wasn't sure how to interpret. The woman confused the hell out of him, which would normally piss him off- he couldn't stand it when people made shit more complicated than it had to be.

She was still standing there, looking at him, her face coated in shadows.

"What!" He barked, annoyed with her standing there, not saying anything. "I ain't no mind-reader, Carol. You see a pack of tarot cards 'round here? Fuckin' crystal ball?"

"Were you worried? When you didn't know where I was?" She asked, kneeling down beside him again, her hands dropping to her sides. "Did you care?"

Daryl felt his chest tighten, but he ignored the sensation. " -the hell does it matter? Ya got found didn'cha." He looked down at the baby- anywhere but at her. The little girl in his arms was drawing air through the empty bottle and he pulled it free from her mouth. She let out an annoyed cry and arched her back as she began to wail.

Grateful for the distraction he lifted her onto his shoulder and patted her back. When she didn't quiet he placed her little hand in her mouth and held it there for her. His ear was filled with the sound of sucking as she gummed her hand, soothing herself.

Carol swallowed- her jaw pulled tight, her arms wrapped around herself again. "How'd you learn what to do with a baby?" Carol asked, she reached out and tentatively rested her hand on the little girl's back, her hand covering Daryl's.

He had long ago forced the pain from that story deep inside himself, burying it with the anger that he wore like armor. He had kept her locked away, sweet Georgia Lyn, with her blue eyes and corn coloured hair that felt like silk in his hands. She'd come and gone with the dry grass of August, taking the best part of him with her. Her mother had gone not long after. They hadn't been married; their only tie a little unmarked plot in the local cemetery, so it was easy for her to go her own way. Act like Georgia had never lived- never died.

She'd come back to him in Sophia, and now again today, giving him another chance to save her. He wouldn't fail again. If he did there would be nothing left of him.

"I had a girl," he finally spat out, the words bittersweet like acid and honey on his tongue. "Called her _Skeeter_," his voice broke as he spoke the name that he hadn't heard out-loud for years. Clearing his throat hard he nodded. "She died." The words seemed simple enough, but they cut him to the core, denting his armor like a blow to his chest.

Carol's stone grey eyes widened but she didn't say anything for a long time. Her expression held understanding and a mutual pain. Daryl waited for pity, but it never came. Instead she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, softly, and briefly. When she pulled away her eyes were closed, her face tilted down. Her hands had dropped to her side again.

His fingers twitched and he reached up to take her chin. She flinched slightly but didn't move away. This time it was he who leaned in. The kiss he initiated came harder and faster than their previous one, eliciting a soft moan from the woman before him.

* * *

LDL: Thanks for taking the time to comment, Jessica. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter. It is my personal favourite so far. I felt like Rick needed a moment like that to put some of his angst to rest. I hope you like this one too. It's written in a similar style to the last. I made some character/backstory decisions in it that I was really on the fence about. I am interested to hear what you think of them. Cheers. P.S. Squee-ing is definitely a word in my dictionary.

LAJB: Always a pleasure to hear from you. :) So happy that you liked my little shout-out. Lol. I think that it had to happen, where Rick addressed that elephant in the room. And I really think that sensible canon Rick, not the one we had the pleasure of viewing last week, would have come to similar conclusions. We are going to explore Daryl a little more in this chapter. Crossing my fingers that it is received well.

TMY'reSY: I feel like a genie. Your wish is my command. Your request fit perfectly with where I was going, though I was not intending it to be so soon. But I think I managed to switch gears pretty smoothly and do some re-writes to make it work. Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

Rick sat in the dark, listening to the sound of his family breathing in the otherwise silent prison. In the distance he could hear the hushed voices of Daryl and a woman, probably Carol. He glanced at the i.v. dripping steadily into Lori's arm as she slept- her hand loose in his own. He brushed over her knuckles and traced the length of her fingers to her nails. He loved her hands- the way they would always reach out for him to communicate, to connect, to love him.

She had always been that way- so endearingly touchy. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her all those years before at her older brother's freshman year party. He'd been drawn to her instantly, her long dark hair twisted back into a pony-tail and her green eyes sparkling as she watched her brother make a fool of himself. He'd told her that she must have taken all the good genes, and she'd laughed, flashing him a gorgeous smile that made his heart flutter. And then her hand had moved to touch his arm and he'd been hooked.

He'd spent the next two summers driving up to Cynthiana from Knoxville under the pretences of seeing her brother. It was on the night of her high-school graduation that she had finally agreed to let him take her out for a celebratory milkshake, and he'd kissed her, barefoot on her parent's front porch that night, her finger's threaded through his. She'd smelled like daisies and vanilla, though she laughed and insisted now that it had been plain old bug spray.

Her thumb twitched, pulling him back to the present, and his eyes shot up to her face. Her eyes were open, moving rapidly as they searched the bunk above her. She moaned softly, the sound hitched on sharp breaths and she tightened her fingers around his.

"Lori," he rasped, feeling a mixture of relief and fear as he leaned over her so that she could see him.

Her hand was clutching his now and he cringed as tears welled in her eyes before sliding down her temples to collect in her hairline. "Oh, baby," he used his free hand to thumb away a trail of moisture, but it was quickly replaced by the next onslaught. She shifted underneath him and he leaned back to accommodate her hand as she moved it to her abdomen, pressing down against the incision. She cried out softly, her eyes still wide with tears.

"I'm going to get Carol," he pressed a kiss to her forehead and ducked, clearing the top bunk. He walked quickly into the main area of the cell block and approached the perch where Carol was crouched down with her back to him. "Carol," he whispered loudly taking the first few stairs two at a time.

The woman peered over the edge at him already getting to her feet.

Rick turned around again and jogged back towards the cell where Lori was waiting. Carol fell into step just behind him. "She's awake- I think she's in pain," he filled her in as they entered the cell dark cell.

He kneeled beside Lori and stroked her damp hair off her forehead, frowning at the heat he found there. "She's warm," he told Carol and she crouched beside him, fumbling with a bottle of pills. "I think she has a fever."

"Lori, I'm going to give you something for the pain," Carol poured two pills into her palm and looked to Rick.

Rick lifted Lori and slid onto the bed, keeping her elevated. He picked up the bottle of water from beside the bed and took the pills from Carol. He popped them into his wife's mouth and helped her sip the water. She moaned again and collapsed against his thighs, her energy spent. Rick's hands still cradled her head and he wiped away her tears again.

She was still awake, though barely, her hands pressed against her stomach, and her breaths coming in short gasps. Tears leaked from her closed eyelids, clinging to her eyelashes.

"Can't we do anything?" Rick asked, feeling his own eyes mist, his heart tearing at the sound of Lori's soft whimper.

Carol looked unsure, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "She's holding her incision," she noted. "Maybe the pressure helps."

Rick nodded, "I remember when she had Carl. She used to hold a couch cushion against her stomach. Said it felt like she had to hold her insides in." Rick reached behind him and eased the pillow out from underneath himself. The pillow was almost flat so he folded it in half and pressed it down gently over the incision site. Lori's hands moved out from underneath the pillow and covered his, applying pressure.

"That help?" Rick asked, leaning down to kiss her fevered forehead again. She nodded and closed her eyes, her whole body relaxing. Her hands remained on his, though she wasn't pressing anymore- trusting him not to let go. "Okay, sleep," he soothed her, resting his forehead against hers.

It wasn't long before her breathing evened out again as she drifted off to sleep.

Rick looked to Carol who was adjusting the blankets. She seemed to sense her eyes on him and she turned to look him dead on.

Carol offered him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "She's awake. This is a good thing," she assured him.

Looking back down at his wife, Rick breathed a sigh of relief and he allowed himself a smile.

XXXX

Rick checked his sidearm again as he moved down the long cement halls of the prison. It was still dark and he could barely see more than a few feet in front of him so he listened hard for anything lurking in the shadows around him. His feet crunched on broken cement and dirt as he moved deeper into the prison. The smell of copper and death was overwhelming in the air; they hadn't had time to clean out the bodies yet.

He could hear something in the distance but he wasn't sure what exactly it was- an alarm, maybe a bell. Maybe the generator had kicked back in, though he was pretty sure he had destroyed it. The sound kept coming, drawing him into the bowels of the prison, further and further away from the safety of the group. He pulled his gun out and checked the cylinder. He only had a few rounds, so he would be screwed if he wasn't the only one attracted to the distant jingling.

He felt the steel door under his hand before he could see it. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark and there were no windows in this part of the prison to cast any light at all. The door wasn't quite closed so it sat ajar, its metal shell distorted until it wouldn't fit into the frame. Rick pressed his ear against the door and waited. The sound came again and he looked around him before pulling it open. The door gave way with a heavy groan that sent a nervous flutter through his body. If they hadn't heard him coming before they would certainly be aware of his presence now.

He considered turning back and going back to C-Block, to Lori. He and Daryl could do a sweep tomorrow. His consideration ended though with the sound of the bell again, drawing him in. When he stepped inside he recognized his surroundings: the tight hallway with the sharp right that would take him down the grated steps into the boiler room.

The room smelled like copper and Rick briefly wondered if it was blood or the water lines that were fixed to the ceiling above his head. He followed the tight corridor into the larger room and froze at the top of the stairs. The room was illuminated more brightly than he expected. Its large windows allowed the moon to cast its pale eerie glow over the cement floors, the various equipment, and the blood that looked almost black where it had soaked into the ground.

Rick froze, his heart hammering in his ears. There was so much blood, spreading outwards from the void where Lori had lain only a few hours before, dying. He inspected the area, his body tense and pulsing as he listened to the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. The sound of the alarm startled him again and he jumped, his heart kicking into overdrive.

His feet moved forward despite his internal protest and he stepped off the bottom stair onto the ground. From his new vantage point he could make out a distortion in the blood; long smears moving away from him into the darkness beyond.

Another sound came from the darkness: choking, like someone trying to eat too fast. He placed his hand on the trigger of his weapon and he followed the sound into a hallway. There was someone in the distance, something, he realized- a Walker. It was propped up against the far wall, its belly distended, as though pregnant, its face raw with blood and rotting flesh. It reached for him, letting out a snarl, though it didn't get up, clearly immobilized by its swollen gut.

Rick kneeled down, far enough away that the thing wouldn't be able to grab him. He inspected its stomach first, watched as it writhed as it tried to reach for him. Blood streaked its torso and Rick followed the lines up to its face. He froze at his inspection of its mouth, specifically the clumps of long dark hair that was caught it in its teeth or half swallowed.

Rick felt panic grip him like icy fingers and the room suddenly became impossibly bright. The Walker opened its mouth, showing off its black and decaying gums- it gurgled and expelled a long stream of flesh and blood, as black as tar, as though its insides were rejecting the size of its recent meal.

Nauseated and panicked Rick fired a single shot into its head, a sob breaking free from his own chest as he spotted something mixed in with the vomit: a delicate silver chain looped through a heart-shaped locket- Lori's locket.

Rick's knife sliced through the Walker's belly hard and fast. At first it felt tight and then it split open with the sound of fabric tearing, its content's spilling forth to over the thing's lap. Clumps of long dark hair wound around intestines and bone fragments, mixed in with partially chewed putrid flesh.

Rick sobbed again.

_Lori Lori Lori._

He tried to scream but the pressure in his chest was so great that he couldn't breathe in enough to make a sound.

_Ring Ring Ring_

His head snapped up and his eyes settled on a phone on a table.

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

Rick's eyes shot open to reveal the cinderblock walls of Lori's cell. The early morning sun peeked through the windows and cast the shadows of the bars across the floor and Lori's face. The boiler room was gone along with the swollen Walker and ringing phone.

His heart beat rapidly against his ribcage and his hand flew up to cover his heaving chest. Cold sweat dripped down his back and face, causing his t-shirt and hair to cling to him uncomfortably.

Lori moaned lightly and spoke, still appearing to be asleep. "Rick," the word was thin, with barely any voice behind it. "Baby, what's wrong?" Her eyes opened, glassy and detached. She peered up at him and her brow pinched.

She moved sluggishly, wincing as she raised her hand, reaching for him. "I can hear your heart racing." She was barely alert, but she was searching his face and she looked surprised when his hand closed around hers. Her fingers fumbled clumsily as she adjusted their grip so she was holding onto him instead. "What happened?"

Rick shook his head, still not trusting his voice to say anything. He wasn't sure if he trusted that any of this was real at all.

"Baby, you're shaking," she whispered, bringing his hand to her mouth. She kissed his knuckles, her eyes drifting closed. "Tell me."

He cleared his throat, the same panic, fear, and sadness that he had felt in his dreams moving through him again, threatening to overwhelm him. "I- there was a phone. It w-was _ringing_," he explained, the room blurring as tears built in his eyes. He blinked them away and looked back down at Lori who had fallen asleep again, one hand holding her stomach, the other still twisted around his.

Rick held his breath as he heard movement from outside the cell and voices from upstairs. With his free hand, fingers still trembling, he moved Lori's hair to the side, careful not to wake her. Leaning forward he peered at her neck, searching for the necklace that wasn't there.

* * *

TMY'reSY: Thanks for the review. You're so great for always sending me along a little comment. It's nice to know you're out there reading. Regarding your comment, I don't yet know the timeline for this story so I don't know if that would work out. I hear those things don't happen instantly. :)

Tiger: Yay! So happy to hear from you. I was so on the fence about the decision to add that kind of backstory into my fic canon, because I tend to shy away from assigning histories. I prefer to let the show play it out and then I work with what they offer. But it just felt so appropriate that I almost couldn't get to where I wanted to be without it.

LAJB: I was aiming to subtlety, so I am happy that I achieved it. They are such an awkward pair in the show, and I wanted to reflect that dynamic here. And to answer your question, I am writing that chapter today and I STILL haven't decided! I can't believe it.

LDL: Hi Jessica, I want to thank you so so much for sending me such awesome feedback. Your review was akin to someone giving a compass a tap to make sure that it isn't taking me off-course. I appreciate hearing your thoughts on the matter and I hope I can address the issue in a way that is more than satisfactory for all.

Super2: Yay, my FIRST review for this chapter. I felt like I was waiting FOREVER for someone to say something. Lol. It means a lot to me to hear from you each time. I have a little something planned for you in a couple of chapters.

CS4L: Just saw that you added me to your alert list- Thank You. Glad you are enjoying it. I would love to hear what you think when you get a chance.

LAJB: You're such an amazing and supportive reader. Thank you so much for always taking the time to send me such kind words and encouragement. I added that little "flashback" at the last minute, it just felt like this chapter needed it. One of my favourite things about Lori was how affectionate she was with Carl and Rick. I'm going to miss that. Hope you like this chapter. It's a little bit different, but I want to make sure that I still allude to the canon content, even is very loosely.

Tiger: Realism is my game… or at least I work very hard for it to be. Lol. I get that it doesn't always work in non-fiction but I do try to capture at least wisps of it. I am really enjoying writing Rick/Lori interactions. They're my favourite. And I do love angst-Hurt/comfort fics, so I will right at home in this one. Happy to hear from you, as always. Thanks for commenting.

TMY'reSY: lol, I can't spoil my own story. :) That would be counter intuitive to the element of surprise. I really appreciate that you always comment. Thank you so much.

TWDGuest: You're back! Glad to hear from you again. I kind of like the little backstory vignette too. I imagine they were pretty adorable, fresh and exploring one another for the first time. I'm not really a Caryl fan either, TBH, but I think that in order to be fair to the characters I have to leave room for them to develop too. Daryl and KickAss make me so happy everytime I write them. Hopefully we will get a chance to see some more of that interaction. I'm happy that you are still reading and it's a pleasure to hear from you. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Carol checked the burner on the camping stove that they had been using to cook since they arrived at the prison. When she saw that it had a healthy flame she placed a pot of water onto the burner to make oatmeal. Her mouth watered at the thought of the canned peaches and brown sugar that she would pair with the meal.

There were three things that Carol missed most of all (besides Sophia): her Maytag, her vibrator; though she was hoping that wouldn't be an issue anymore, she thought, glancing towards the door where Daryl was speaking with Rick, and finally, snacking. With their food supply so limited, they had been on rations since they left the farm. She missed midnight treats and mid morning nibbles.

They had all gotten used to the hunger that clawed at their belly's morning, noon, and night and the weakness that came from mal-nutrition. Part of her was grateful that Sophia had never known the sting of frost this past winter or the exhaustion that came with being too afraid to close your eyes.

Carol looked to Carl, who sat next to Beth at the table, his hand resting on his baby sister's belly while the young woman fed her. She watched his young face look up at the blonde girl and wondered which of the female's in his company he adored more. She frowned and wondered if he missed Sophia at all anymore. If anyone even had a thought left for her little girl.

There were so many dead.

She looked at the baby who sucked greedily on the bottle, her eyes watching Carl suspiciously.

Carol looked away, feeling lonely for her daughter. She turned back to her task and opened a can of chicken broth for Lori. Hershel had agreed that she would need to eat something to build her strength and help her body heal. The broth was poured into another pot and placed on the second burner to heat up.

She looked up when Glenn and Maggie came in, their arms heavy with the supplies that Daryl had brought back from the highway. The group had made a small pile of things that they had unloaded from the ambulance. She herself was eyeing the fresh linen set that was still in store packaging, but she knew that it would probably have to go on Lori's bed in order to help prevent infection.

Daryl came in too, a propane tank in his hands. He approached her with it, a small proud smile on his lips. "Figured we'll get low eventually," he nodded to the camping stove.

Carol hummed in agreement. "Yeah," she indicated for him to follow her into the storage room. "We'll put it in here until we do."

Carol crossed her arms and leaned against the cell bars, watching as Daryl carefully put the tank on the ground. She bit her lip, admiring his ass while he wasn't looking. Her eyes met his when he turned around to face her.

"I was thinking, after I get Lori bathed and fed… we could, maybe go spend some time in the guard tower," she suggested, trying to keep her voice even.

Daryl looked at her for a moment, as though processing the request then pushed past her. "Can't," he said over his shoulder. "Left my bike on the highway. Gotta go get it."

Carol watched him go, feeling disappointed. Taking a breath she dropped her hands and followed him out. Tilting her chin up she went back over to the stove to tend to breakfast, watching Carl and Beth out of the corner of her eye. Beth was giggling at Carl as he attempted to burp the baby, while his cheeks flushed under her scrutiny.

Later, Carol plastered a smile on her face when she entered Lori's cell, a tray in hand. "Well look at you," she said to Lori, who was sitting up in bed while Hershel looked her over.

Lori, propped up on a pile of pillows, smiled thinly at Carol. Despite her pale complexion the other woman was still striking, her beautiful dark hair flowing over her shoulders. "Hershel thought it would be good for me to sit up to avoid fluid in my lungs…"

"That's right," the old man drawled kindly. "And it suits you fine," he reached forward patted his patient's hand. "We'll have you up and walking soon. Same reason, but blood clots," he turned to Carol.

"How is everything looking?" Carol placed the tray of food on the small table that they had used for surgical equipment.

"Just fine," Hershel picked up his crutches and got to his feet with Carol's help. Though still unsteady on his feet, he had adjusted well to the amputation. "We'll increase her antibiotics and take care of that infection."

Carol stepped aside to let him pass.

"Breakfast smells delicious, Carol," he drawled as he left.

Alone with Lori now, Carol turned back to the dark haired woman, who was resting with her eyes closed, one hand draped over her stomach. Her pain was obvious and she was trembling beneath the sheets. "I'll get you something for the pain," Carol offered sympathetically.

Lori opened her eyes and shook her head. "I don't want to take anything."

Carol snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Lori. You're clearly in pain," she picked up the bottle of pain killers and opened the lid.

Lori shook her head again. "I am," she admitted, her voice a soft whisper.

"Then why on earth-," Carol opened her arms, the pill bottle rattling in her grasp.

Lori's hand moved to her chest and she pulled the blanket down, her dark eyes looking at her drenched shirt. An embarrassed half-smile crept over her face. "I, uhh," the smile shifted into a more genuine one and she swiped her hand over her cheek to dry a stray tear. "I want to feed my baby."

Carol paused then snapped the lid back onto the pill bottle. She nodded and picked up a roll of gauze. "Let's get you fed first," she sat on the stool beside Lori and touched her arm lightly. "We'll see what else we can do for the pain later."

Lori's arms dropped heavily to her side and she nodded, looking up at Carol, her face wane and glistening with sweat and tears.

Tentatively, Carol reached forward with the gauze, her eyes seeking Lori's permission. When the other woman gave her a tiny nod she slipped the gauze in place under Lori's shirt to soak up the excess breast milk. "We'll change your shirt soon," she promised, picking up the bowl of lukewarm soup.

Lori's eyes were still teary when Carol placed the spoon to her lips. She hesitated; her face paling further and she scrunched her nose, taking a deep breath through her mouth. "I'm feeling a little nauseated," she laughed humorlessly.

"Just try to take a little," Carol offered her best encouraging smile. "Then we'll bring you your girl."

XXXX

Lori wanted to curl up and cry- if she could curl up- which she highly doubted at this point. The pain was dull and constant, bringing with it wave after wave of nausea and tremors. She looked at the top bunk and tried to pull herself together before Rick and Carl came back from showering. Hershel's latest decree was that they that they keep her cell as sterile and sanitary as possible in order to help her body fight off the infection that had set in.

The soup that Carol had insisted she eat wasn't sitting well and she felt acid rising into her throat. She swallowed it down and along with the moan that threatened to escape when Carol nudged her arm, knocking her torso in turn.

"Sorry," the other woman apologized, cringing. She slowed her movements to avoid another accident as she finished redressing Lori's bandages.

"It's okay," Lori sniffed, looking down to inspect herself. She felt better after a sponge bath, administered by Carol, and in a fresh shirt and panties. The shirt was big on her and had buttons down the front, so she would have easy access to feed the baby.

Carol sat back in her seat and inspected her work. After a moment she nodded and looked up to meet Lori's gaze.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked, picking up the comb from the small table in the room. She scooted forward and sat next to Lori on the bed. "We have formula."

Lori closed her eyes as Carol began to work the comb through her long dark hair, her fingers gently picking out tangles. She sniffed again, wishing she could get her emotions in check. She didn't remember feeling this hormonal after Carl was born, but then, she hadn't been sleeping in a prison cell with access to only rudimentary medical treatment. "I want to do it," she finally said, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry about all this," she motioned to her tears.

Carol moved forward, sliding one arm around Lori's shoulders as she pulled her into a light hug. "I cried for weeks after Sophia was born, my hormones were everywhere," she laughed softly at the memory. "Of course, we didn't have enough money to pay the rent and Ed… well, Ed was Ed," she gave Lori a tight squeeze then went back to fixing her hair.

Lori smiled in appreciation and dried her eyes again. If she was being completely honest, she was a little bit nervous about seeing the baby.

_What if it was Shane's? What if she could see it? What if that was all she could see? What about Rick?_

Carol pulled her hair back over her shoulders and she felt the beginnings of a French braid as fingers worked their way over her scalp, separating strands. They sat in comfortable silence until Carol finished up and got to her feet.

"I'll send her in," Carol patted her on the shoulder and got to her feet. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Lori nodded. "Thank you." She looked down at her fingers, worrying the blanket nervously. The baby might not like her. It had been almost two days since her birth. She might have bonded with the others. She might not trust her…

She heard footsteps approaching and then a gruff voice ask. "Ya decent?"

"As ever," she joked softly as Daryl came in, the baby in his arms. Her heart picked up speed as she inspected the blue and green blanket in his arms. She couldn't see the baby yet as she had been swaddled tightly. "I wasn't expecting you to-," Lori shook her head, surprised by the sight of Daryl Dixon with a baby in his arms.

He shot her a warning look and she returned it with an apologetic one of her own.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to insinuate…" before she could finish he cut her off by laying the baby on her lap. Shocked by the sudden exchange she jerked to secure her in place.

"Careful!" He barked, grabbing her hand to still her. "Jeeze, s'like you ain't never held a baby before," he snipped.

Lori closed her eyes, trying to swallow the tears that were already building. "I'm sorry," she sighed, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if I can-," she shook her head, overwhelmed by the pain and the fear. She wasn't supposed to be here. She couldn't be a good mother to this baby. She ruined everything she touched: Rick, Shane, Carl…

Two strong hands closed around her shoulders, shaking her from her thoughts. She opened her eyes to meet Daryl's hard icy blue ones. He had stooped down to look her straight on. "Stop yer panickin'," he instructed. "Yer her mama. It's yer job to keep yer shit together."

Lori took a deep breath, and then another. The Redneck raised his eyebrows and she nodded. Her incision pulled painfully, as though she had been socked in the stomach and her hand moved on its own accord to the site. She stopped when she connected with the soft fabric of the baby's blanket, frozen.

"Okay," she nodded, ignoring the tears on her cheeks. Daryl moved back and she instantly missed his hands gripping her- grounding her. With him out of the way her view of the baby was no longer obstructed. Looking down she felt her heart swell and her eyes filled with tears again, this time coming from a different place. Sliding her arms under her daughter she tried to lift her, but the motion made her whimper as her incision plunged her into white blinding pain.

"Careful," Daryl's voice was surprisingly soothing. "Let me help," he said, already lifting the baby up and laying her onto her mother's chest.

She was still recovering from the sudden assault and she wrapped her arm around his wrist to ground herself again.

"Okay there?" Daryl asked, kneeling down beside the bed.

Lori nodded, releasing her hold on him. "I'm good, thanks," she turned her attention to her baby. "I like her dress," she commented, touching the lace detail on one of the sleeves.

"Yeah, I did a run," Daryl told her, passing her the soft blanket that had fallen away.

Lori took the blanket and draped it over her daughter, relishing in the weight and warmth of the newborn. She reached for Daryl again and touched his arm. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, holding his gaze until he cleared his throat and looked away, shifting awkwardly. She looked back down at the little girl in her arms and tilted her head to get a better view. "She's beautiful."

"She is," a soft voice said from the doorway.

She looked to Rick who had come to the open bars, Carl at his side. Her eyes stayed glued to her husband who seemed relaxed, his features soft and his blue eyes crinkled in the corners.

Lori closed her eyes in relief. For the first time in months she felt lighter.

_Hopeful._

* * *

TMY'reSY: You want me to spoil my own story. ;) You'll have to hack my hard-drive to get any information out of me… That is not an open invitation… Glad that my chapter had the desired effect, and that you're still reading. Best of luck with your own endeavors, too.

Tiger: You articulate yourself just fine! Your dedication to providing feedback for each chapter shows me how much you appreciate me work, and I appreciate that in turn. I miss her too, on the show. This has been helpful in my grieving process too. Glad we can work through it together, lol.

LAJB: So happy you noticed the little style change. I thought I would try something else and it was pretty easy in this one, because Rick wasn't interacting with anyone else. Whenever I introduce dialogue I feel like it's hard to get that level of detail because my flow is constantly being interrupted…

Super2: As promised, I added a little something into this chapter for your tastes. Thanks for the review. I appreciate hearing from you.

Ffedeline: Welcome! Thanks for tuning in. Glad you like the story and it is great to hear from you. There is definitely more to come… and here it is. :) I try to post daily and I would love to hear from you again. Cheers.

GMSR: Thanks sweetie for catching up and reviewing along the way. Lol. Though it seems you had two left thumbs (or autocorrect) for some of those reviews. I did decide to brave lactation. You know me. If it would happen in real life it's going to at least be considered for inclusion into the story. As for your can't wait… here it is.

LAJB: I was wondering why my word count was so high when I looked at my stats. Duh. Lol. Thanks for the heads up. Carol is so freakin' hard for me to write! Glad this chapter wasn't a total write-off and that there were some enjoyable elements. Good to hear from you, as always. Hope you enjoy this one.

TMY'reSY: She is indeed improving. I needed to get that part of the story moving, at least for my own sanity. Hope the pacing is okay. And as for your request I have something planned.

MLR: Thank you for joining us. Never too late. And puh-leez, how could I be annoyed by you taking the time to send me feedback for EVERY chapter. That is so thoughtful of you.

TWDGuest: Much appreciation X2! It meant so much to hear from you this morning. I love your reviews every time. I think Lori doesn't get enough credit for what a wicked mom she is. I hope one day I'm half as dedicated and good with my own kid(s). I wasn't sure how the top three things line would go over, good to see it has been well received. Thanks for your thorough and amazing comments. :) Can't wait to hear what you think about this one.

Tiger: I was waiting for you before posting again. I wanted to hear your thoughts on my characterization before I continued. Thank you for the lovely compliment. I am a real stickler for getting each character right, so it means so very much to hear you say that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Lori & Daryl- Saturday **

Daryl was the first to move, muttering something unintelligible as he pushed his way out of the room. Rick's eyes stayed glued to Lori's as he nudged himself away from the wall and moved towards her. "You look beautiful, too," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

He had shaved since she last saw him, and he smelled like soap and peppermint toothpaste. "How are you feeling?" He asked, taking a seat on the chair next to her bed.

"I'm okay," Lori answered honestly. "Hoping this little one wants to eat soon though," she touched her daughter's cheek. "I'm a little," she glanced at her son who hadn't moved from his spot at the door. "Full," she finished, receiving an understanding nod from Rick.

Carl however, looked confused, and something else, too. She inspected him for a moment, the way he hesitated, and she knew the look in his eyes. It was the one he gave her when he knew he had been caught in a lie. Lori reached out to him, inviting him to come closer, but he stayed rooted to the spot.

"Come here, baby," she encouraged, beckoning him with a twitch of her fingers. "It's alright."

He shuffled closer, taking off his hat and holding it in front of him like a shield. He needed a haircut, she thought, reaching up to touch the ends of his brown mop. "Can I have a hug?" She asked him, cupping his soft cheek.

"I don't want to hurt you," he told her, looking down at her stomach, his voice uncertain.

Lori looked at her son. He had become a little man overnight, but he was still such a little boy in so many ways. He had grown over the winter, rising to almost the top of her shoulder, and his face had slimmed, showing off his cheek bones and jaw. His freckles gave him away though, tying him to his youth, softening him. Lori moved her arm around his shoulders and guided him to her, biting down on her lip to manage the pain that the movement caused.

He didn't lean fully into her, clearly still wary of her injuries. His face rested in the crook of her neck, just inches from his baby sister's. When she stroked his back he finally relaxed, the tension leaving his body in a wave.

"I'm sorry," he said on a breath, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Lori didn't have time to respond before the baby shifted and let out an unhappy wail. Carl pulled away startled, and Lori reached for his arm to keep him close. "It's okay," she told him.

"I know," he assured her. "She's probably hungry again. She eats a lot, you know."

Lori gave her son's arm another squeeze and turned her attention to the baby. She hadn't really planned the logistics of feeding her daughter and her uncertainty showed. "Uhh," she looked to her husband. "I think I need some help."

Rick got to his feet, looking at her expectantly.

"Carl, can you pass me that blanket?" Lori asked, nodding to the one that Carol had left folded up on the end of her bed. The preteen moved quickly and passed it to Rick, but then no one moved. "Here, take her," Lori finally said, forming a plan. "Slide in behind me Rick," she instructed her husband, who complied, though slowly. Lori couldn't help but moan when the new position jostled her, pulling her stitches.

"Sorry," Rick kissed her shoulder. "Carl, you don't have to stay," he told their son.

"He's going to see it eventually," Lori shrugged, looking to Carl who stared blankly back at her.

"I'll stay," he decided after a moment, sitting down on the chair that his father had recently vacated.

Rick was already working to unbutton her shirt for her. "Your mom is going to-," he began to explain.

"I know," Carl jumped in. "Feed the baby with her breasts," his ears tinged red at the word _breasts_ but his tone remained matter of fact. "I know how it works, dad," he shrugged. "It's natural."

Lori bit back an amused smile and went back to positioning the baby with Rick's help. It was awkward at first and uncomfortable as hell, but eventually both she and the baby figured out what they were doing and her daughter began to suckle. Lori watched the newborn for a moment, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. She could offer at least one thing that the little girl needed.

"What is her name?" Carl asked as he pushed the spare blanket under his mother's straining arms.

Lori's raised her eyebrows- she hadn't thought about it. "I- I don't know," she confessed. "What have you guys been calling her?"

"Mmm, well, just baby, and little girl…" her son's face twisted into a wry smile. "And Daryl called her Lil' Asskicker," he confessed, looking down shyly.

Lori chuckled. "It _is_ catchy…," she admitted, looking down at her baby. "Maybe when she is older… Rick?" She asked, leaning back into her husband. She was starting to feel her energy draining. Her healing body wasn't far from calling it quits and forcing her to get some rest.

Rick's voice was soft when he spoke and he pressed a kiss to the column of her neck as her eyes drifted closed. "I was thinking Judith."

Lori smiled. Her eyelids felt too heavy for her to lift them. The baby had stopped drinking and was drifting off to sleep too. Lori felt Rick shift behind her and then he lifted the baby onto her shoulder, one of his hands cupping her diaper padded bum, the other patting her back.

"Why Judith? Like Grandma Judy?" Carl asked.

"Yeah," Rick answered. "Your grandma died not long after we found out about you. Your mom said if you were a girl we'd call you Judith."

"Judith," Carl tried the name out, making Lori smile. "I like it. Will she have a middle name?"

"Judith Maggie Grimes," Lori decided, her voice heavy with the sleep that she could no longer fight off. She let her head roll to the side so she could press a kiss to the newborn's head. "It's perfect."

XXXX

The sun was blistering on the back of his neck as Daryl picked his way through the vehicles on the highway. He looked over his shoulder, annoyed at Maggie and Glenn who couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other today. The older Greene daughter had found something that had the pair of them in giggles, her back pressed up against an old Ford, Glenn pressed up against her. Daryl rolled his eyes and whistled. "Hey! Lovebirds!" he barked, his patience on its last legs. "You wanna get this done or do you wanna be out here all day?"

He turned his back on the pair and went back to poking through the back of an old van. He'd found some ammunition and some hunting knives that he thought might come in handy.

Their priority was food and clothing- diapers if they could find them.

"Condoms," Maggie hollered, holding up an unopened box. She popped the seal with her thumb and sauntered over to him. When she'd reached his side she pulled a row of condoms out and tore a few free. She winked and pushed them into his breast pocket. "Just in case."

"Grow up," Daryl shoved the box of cans that he had found into her arms and moved on to the next car.

Undeterred, Maggie followed him, "What _is_ going on between you and Carol anyway?" She asked, shifting the box into one hip. She used her free hand to open another car door and peered inside the cab.

Daryl wanted to wipe the damn smirk off her face with his fist, and almost did, except he figured it wouldn't go over to well, her being a woman and all. Instead he grunted and slammed the door, wishing he'd come out by himself again. "We should head back," he told her, picking up a package of batteries and a flashlight.

"Don't be sore," Maggie protested, following him through the uneven line-up of cars, back towards where they'd left the ambulance. "You know I was just teasing," she said. "Besides, we all know you-"

"Shut up," Daryl snapped and grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to the ground.

"What is-," Maggie began to ask but was silenced as he closed his hand over her mouth and held a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to shut her trap.

She nodded at him wide-eyed and he released his hold on her. He looked around for Glenn, and not seeing him, turned his attention back to the scene before him. There was a small group crowded around the ambulance, inspecting it. Daryl could barely hear what they were saying, but he was pretty sure the discussion would end with them taking off with their ride, and their supplies.

He spotted Glenn in his periphery, crouched down behind a trailer and he turned to make eye-contact with the Korean. Glenn, who had a better vantage point held up three fingers and nodded to the group. Daryl considered their position. They could take three-on-three, but they would need to surprise the other group. If they could move into position and surround them they would be able to take them easily enough. He looked to Maggie who had drawn her gun.

She looked back at him expectantly, and then followed the line of sight his fingers indicated. He pointed to the woman in the group, a brown-haired one with a bow over her shoulder, strapped across her back. Maggie nodded and slipped away from his side. He watched her crawl, body low to the ground, around the back of the car. Daryl turned to Glenn next and indicated the other man in the group, leaving the largest one for himself.

He held up three fingers and began the countdown, dropping his middle finger, then index. His thumb twitched and curled in, forming a fist. Maggie and Glenn launched forward from their respective hiding places. Daryl moved last but barely made it to his feet before he was taken down be a sharp crack to the back of his skull.

The world fizzled out and went black for a second and he started to twist around to defend himself. The second blow came to the corner of his temple and he landed on his back, losing track of his knife in the process.

The world pulsed around him and he could vaguely hear Glenn and Maggie yelling from somewhere over his left shoulder. The canopy of trees over his head faded in and out and he closed her eyes to block out the searing sun.

He tried to kick away the hands that closed around his ankles but their grip was too strong and he was powerless as he felt his body being dragged over the scorching pavement. His already aching head rattled across the uneven ground, pounding against each crack and pothole.

Eventually it stopped and he turned his face to see who had attacked him but could only see a shadow moving above him. The figure crouched down over him and pressed a cloth to his temple. Sensing no further threat Daryl used his last few moments of consciousness to watch the ambulance pull away. He couldn't hear Maggie or Glenn anymore.

* * *

Tiger: Hiya. Thanks for the kind words. I love writing the Grimes family more than any of the other characters. And Lori most of all. Too bad she has been unconscious through so much of it that she wasn't an option. Lol. Thanks for your super sweet PM. I like to entertain so writing and posting has been very therapeutic for me.

Kaz: I really liked writing the Lori/Daryl interaction! It was a lot of fun to negotiate both of their personalities because they are highly incompatible. I wish the show would have given me a few more examples to work from to help me capture their dynamic. Glad you thought it was successful. I have similar thoughts about Caryl. I sent you a PM about it.

TWDGuest: So happy you like the name! I wasn't sure how people would respond to it. Most people hate the name, and I did at first, but it's novel canon so I wanted to stay true to it. We will see what they end up doing on the show. I am looking forward Maggie's reaction too…. Might have to wait though… Thanks for the review!

TMY'reSY: Thank you for reading and reviewing. It was a nice soothing chapter to write, so I am happy you enjoyed it.

LAJB: What a coincidence! Perfect then. :) I needed to do something to make the name sentimental so that it would be more likeable to me. Although the more I say it now the more badass it feels. That is indeed why Lori picked the middle name. I think Maggie deserved it. She was more afraid than Lori in that scene, I think. Lol. What a trooper.

LDL: Everytime I write a scene like this I crave seeing SWC, AL, and CR acting it out. Darn the show for robbing me of that. I too am curious about what they will do in the show with the name. The novels didn't give an explanation for it, so I just went with my own.

SN2: You're my 100th review. That's awesome. Glad you like the name. :) Thanks for letting me know that it works for you. Cheers. LDL: You're such a sweetie for taking the time to review each chapter. Thank you so much. I am glad that you're all caught up now! Here is the answer to your question. I am trying to incorporate both canon from the novels as well as the show. So here it is. This certainly is a lighter chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

LAJB: Your comments always make me smile. I too wish the show would just drop their shit and adopt my story instead. Lol. Not to be cocky. But I do miss Lori a lot and I wish their family could have had at least a few happy moments.

TMY'reSY: Fluff Fluff Fluff. That's pretty much all this chapter is. Lol. Hope you like it.

Tiger: Thanks so much for your comments. I enjoyed writing that last chapter so it brings me joy that you enjoyed reading it. This one certainly takes the optimism and runs with it. I do like to do that occasionally. Haha. Excited to hear what you think.

TWDGuest: How much did I LOVE writing that Daryl/Lori scene! It was actually really challenging not to just throw in the towel and scrap the whole thing. I was worried he would be way OOC. I would pay anything to see Norman and SWC play out that scene on the show. But, alas, they want to make me miserable. Thanks for being so great and always commenting.

RR: Hi there! Welcome aboard! Glad you're enjoying the story. I really appreciate you taking the time to send me a review. I really do love to get to know my readers a bit and interact. It makes writing so much more fun to me. Hope to hear from you again!

SN2: Haha, I guess I didn't really see him knocking so much as…. Coaxing sense into her. Lol. But I'm glad she came around too. Happy that you're back. Hope you enjoy this next one. Thanks for commenting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Carl & Michonne- Sunday, January 13, 2012**

* * *

Carl had been sitting for a long time watching his mom and Judith sleep. Beth and Carol were washing some laundry and he could hear them chatting softly, Beth's soft voice echoing around the stone walls of their cell-block. He was pretty sure he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon, but he hadn't decided yet. If she said _no_ it would be pretty awkward, and he wasn't really sure what to do with a girlfriend anyway.

He wanted to try kissing her, to see what it felt like. He bet she would taste like cotton candy or something like that. He'd heard his dad tell his mom once that she tasted sweet. Maybe he would tell Beth that, to make her laugh like his mom had. Carl looked down at his hands, he wished Jimmy was still around, so he could ask him about kissing and sex and stuff like that. It kind of sucked being the only boy kid left sometimes. Maybe he could ask Glenn… or Daryl. Except, Daryl didn't really seem like the kissing kind. And Glenn, well, Glenn might tell Maggie.

"What are you thinking about, baby?"

He looked up to find his mom awake. She still looked tired, but she looked pretty, too. Carl shrugged. No way he was gonna tell her that he was thinking about kissing Beth. "Guns… and stuff," he lied.

"Would you get me some water, please?" she asked, reaching weakly for the bottle beside her bed. Instead of grabbing it her hand just kind of flopped against the mattress, looking like the pale belly of a dead fish.

Carl picked up the bottle, anything to avoid looking at her hand, dangling there like that. He held the bottle to her mouth and she drank from it, closing her eyes. "You look… pretty," he tested the words, frustrated when they came out all tangled and stale sounding.

His mom opened her eyes at that and she offered him a smile, pulling away from the water bottle. "You're lying," she sighed, but not in a sad way. Just kind of tired-like. She took another drink of water then turned her face away. "Thanks."

Carol put the bottle back down on the floor and reached for her hand. It was cold to the touch and it kind of gave him the creeps, so he quickly placed it on her stomach.

"You can tell me, you know," his mom said, her face tilted towards him. "Anything that you're thinking about. I won't get mad, and I won't make you feel bad about it."

He thought about asking her about kissing, but couldn't make himself. Not when she looked like that, with her dead fish hands and her head hanging like her neck was broke or somethin'. So he shrugged instead.

"Are you thinking about… before? In the boiler room?" She asked.

"Kind of," he lied. Seemed like lies were easier these days than the truth. "I guess." It wasn't really a total lie anyway. He had been thinking about that, a lot. Every time she winced, or moaned, or whimpered in her sleep. Like she was in pain all the time and that was his fault.

"What are you thinking about it?"

His hands flexed and he curled them into a ball. "I was supposed to put you down. And I didn't. I didn't do the right thing, but at the same time I did, 'cause well, you're alive," the words spilled out like marbles and as hard as he tried he could stop them. He couldn't gather them up and stuff them back in so he just let them keep coming. "But it could have been different. I keep thinkin' _what if_ you came back, like as a Walker. And then dad found you. Or you hurt someone."

"Baby-," she started, but he cut her off.

"It was my job and I didn't do it 'cause I kept thinkin' about since the farm. The stuff I did and said to you. I knew it was hurting your feelings, but I couldn't stop." He shook his head, his heart thumping against the inside of his chest. "I couldn't. 'Cause I liked it. It made me feel… big." The last words seem to hang in the air and he felt like he could see them there before they crashed to the ground like a glass falling in slow motion.

His mom didn't say anything. She was just looking at him, her eyes red and watery and she looked kind of like she was going to puke.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head. His heart wasn't thumping anymore. It's like his whole body had stopped twisting and clenching for the first time in days. But he knew his own peace had come at a price, like everything did. And the cost had been her feelings, again. "You were wrong," he swallowed. "I'm not brave. And I'm not good."

Her voice shook when she spoke and she reached for him, her hand trembling, but finally alive-looking. "Come here," she placed her hand on his shoulder.

He could tell she was trying to pull him, but there wasn't really any force behind it. He couldn't deny her though, 'cause she was alive and she was giving him _that_ look.

Carl was scared that he was hurting her when he climbed onto the bed beside her, but she didn't wince at all. He settled on the edge of the bed, his head resting against her side with her arm hugging him to her. He didn't mean to start crying, but he couldn't help it. Like his words before, his tears forced their way out before he could stop them. She felt so warm and soft and alive. And safe.

"My poor boy," she whispered, her fingers running through his hair. "You are good. You are brave. And you are strong," she told him, her voice hushed and convincing. "When we don't feel safe, we sometimes say and do the wrong thing. Hurtful things," she explained. "I think sometimes it's because it's the only way we can feel in control… or not be so alone." Her hand dropped to hug him again.

"Is that why you had sex with Shane?" He asked.

She tensed beneath him but didn't let him go. "Maybe," she finally answered, sniffling.

He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to tell him. Anything to make her stop crying, but he didn't say anything. He just listened. He wanted to hear.

"Everyone was gone. Our family, our friends… your dad…" She sounded so sad. "And it was like I couldn't feel anything except scared and sad, or numb. And I just… wanted to know that I was still capable of feeling something else." She swallowed so loud that he could hear it. "But it was wrong."

"Sex?" He asked, looking straight ahead at the wall.

She didn't answer him right away and he wondered if she had fallen back to sleep. He continued to look at the wall, reading the etchings of people's names.

Her voice was still soft when she spoke. "Sex can be a beautiful thing under the right circumstances. If you're both ready and you want to do it to show someone that you love them very much. But it can't be the only way you show them. There has to be more to it than that."

"Was there… more? With Shane? Like dad?"

"No," Lori shook her head. "And that hurt him. That hurt a lot of people."

Carl nodded, still not really sure what it all meant. But it was kind of cool that she was cool with talking about it. "Mom?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"How'd you know? What to say?"

She kissed the top of her head. "I'm your mom. It's my job."

She made it all sound so simple.

XXXX

"I'd gut'cha like a hog if my hands weren't tied," the man threatened, his voice gruff as he strained against the ropes that she had secured him with.

Michonne pushed the tip of her katana into the spot just below his shoulder blades, urging him forward. "Since I'm not the one with a sword about a second from meeting my lungs, you might want to shut up and walk."

He didn't say anything else as he trudged ahead of her, his hands wiggling as he worked to loosen his bonds. She split her attention between him and their surroundings. The woods were teaming with the dead and they couldn't afford to be caught off guard. Not with the condition her leg was in and the man's arms tied behind his back.

"You would think you'd be more grateful," she muttered. "Saved your life, you know."

"That so?" the man asked. "Seein' as how yer the one threaten'in' my lungs, n' all." He looked over his shoulder at her, showing off the nasty bruise that was forming on his temple.

Michonne shrugged. "Where's this prison of yours?" She asked, not seeing much of anything that suggested they were anywhere near anything at all. "You got food there? People? Weapons?"

"You got a name?" he asked. "Seein' how yer inviting yerself over. Don't you got no manners?"

Michonne snorted. "You an etiquette coach or somethin'?" She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She liked this man and she didn't want to have to kill him. She just hoped that he went easy so she wouldn't have to take his head off. "What's yours?"

"Daryl," he answered.

She hesitated. "Michonne," she told him.

The strangers continued in silence until they reached a small hill that overlooked their destination.

"This the best way in?" She asked, eyeing the hill and the small creek at the bottom of it. It would be tough to get down it so she closed her hand around his arm to keep him steady as they descended the hill. They crossed the creek and Michonne kept a tight grip on his arm. They approached the fence and the dead who had gathered against it.

They turned as she approached and she felt Daryl tense. "Untie me," he ordered as the small group began to move towards them.

"Relax," Michonne moved in front of him, her katana ready. She took the first one's head off as soon as it was within reach and the second's hands in the same swoop. She kicked it in the chest to give her access to the next one who she sliced in half, leaving it in two symmetrical pieces on the ground at her feet.

"Badass," Daryl said from behind her. "Would get the job done faster if you'd-,"

"Does this look like a good time?" She asked, skewering a corpse as it lunged at her. The thing writhed on her blade, reaching for her. She pulled her knife free from her belt and jammed it in clean to the finger-guard. The knife was a lost cause so she left it there and used her foot to kick the carcass down.

Michonne let out a satisfied grunt and turned back to Daryl. "Distract me again and I'll cut your throat," she warned, grabbing him again. She shoved him toward a patched hole in the fence. Daryl went through the opening first and she closed it up again once she was inside.

"Threaten me again n' I'll grind you," he tossed back. He led her around the perimeter of the prison and they ducked through a gate that had been left unlocked. Michonne breathed a sigh of relief; the place looked secure enough. She was about to cut Daryl's bonds when she felt something hard and familiar press against the back of her head. The click of the hammer confirmed her suspicions; this wasn't the first time she'd had a gun held to her.

"Drop the sword and raise your hands," a male voice ordered. She did as she was told and released her weapon. It clattered to the ground at her feet and she sighed, raising her hands.

"'Bout time," Daryl grumbled. "Wanna give me a hand here?" He turned his back and a tall bald black man cut the bindings. With his hands free he took the knife and put it to her throat. "Yer lucky I'm in a good mood today," he stepped towards her so they were chest to chest, his breath hot on her face. "Next time you pull a weapon on me you'll end up like one of them Walkers back there."

* * *

TMY'reSY: I know you do. :) You'll find out in the next one. Thanks for commenting, hon.

LAJB: I am trying to sync some things up. Trying to get my pacing right so I can see the next episode and then figure out how to incorporate the canon. Haha, yeh, I don't think Daryl appreciated Maggie's teasing much either but it was fun to write something a little lighter.

LDL: I know! I'm sorry about the cliffhanger… extended cliffhanger. Promise I will address some of your questions in the next one. Thanks for commenting. :) And for checking out my other collection too. You're an angel.

Kaz: Yeah, I think he didn't want to entertain her at all. I am really interested to see where the show goes with that. I have a hard time seeing him engaged in a relationship at all while still remaining in character. But people do change… who knows. I would rather see him change that stay stagnant and never develop. We shall see. I'm going to hold off on finalizing the next chapter until I see the episode tomorrow night.

TWDGuest: I know! I might write that into a one-shot later and post it under my TWD Collection. I'm not sure if it will fit into this story. We'll see. Lol. It might be a little AU based on my AU. :) Glad you liked the chapter. It was fun to write.

Guest: I liked her in through all of the seasons, but I agree that she was even MORE likeable in season 3. I love how the writers finally get it together with her and then kill her off. Thanks so much for reviewing. It was wonderful to hear from you.

LDL: Hey Jessica. It was really important for me to explore Carl a little bit more in terms of him really being alone in so many ways. Within North American culture we generally develop our sexualities and negotiate that part of our psychosocial development based on peer interaction and feedback. He doesn't have a peer group so I wondered how he would get access to the information that he needs to develop. Lol I had considered the Jimmy thing. But then realized that Carl was only 12 at that time, so he might not have even noticed that Jimmy and Beth had a thing. Maybe he will find out one day. Glad you liked the chapter. Thanks for commenting, as always.

GMSR: Check your inbox.

LAJB: This is the one. I didn't end up changing too much in there. I kind of liked it when I went back to edit before posting. I think Lori does doubt herself now, as a mother. But I think it does come naturally to her. Thanks for your support. :)

RR: Every time I write a scene I think… why couldn't they have just given us a little bit more. Anything. And it is still a little bit surreal that she is dead. I too really appreciated her final conversation with Carl, but it ended on such a sad note that I just can't take any solace in it. Thanks so much for your comments. I really appreciate the affirmation that I took this in a good direction.

TMY'reSY: Okay, Okay. I'm posting because you asked me to. It's a short one, because I don't want to proceed until I have seen the show. Thank you for commenting.

Kaz: Absolutely. Me too. I think it was needed for fan closure more than anything. It was just all a bit too sudden. *sighs* Oh well. I guess we will all have to make do with fanfiction.

.


	11. Chapter 11

**Maggie & Rick- Monday, January 14, 2013**

* * *

Maggie was gripping Glenn's arm so tightly that her hand had begun to cramp. She looked to him, barely making out his features in the dark shadows of the ambulance cab. "Who was that guy?"

"That was Merle," Glenn answered, his voice hushed. "Daryl's brother."

She both literally and figuratively felt her jaw drop. She braced herself against the wall when they hit a nasty bump and sucked in a breath. The girl she'd taken on had done a number to her back ribs with her boot. Once they had moved to more steady terrain she leaned back in talk to her partner. "Well, I see the resemblance," she whispered.

"Daryl's come a long way since we met him," Glenn told her, reaching up to touch her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Maggie sighed. "For the sixth time, _yes_." She placed her hand on top of his and closed her eyes. "I just wish we knew where they were takin' us."

Glenn was still looking at her, his eyes burning with intensity. She knew that look. It meant he was evaluating, and that rarely worked out in her favour. "It scared me," he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth. "When he had that… hand-knife thing to your throat. I didn't know what to do."

"I'm fine," she reassured him again.

His hand dropped into his lap. "It could have been different."

"He wants information on Daryl. He isn't going to kill us until we give it to him," she squeezed his hand again and looked to the front of the ambulance where Merle was behind the wheel, his knife glinting in the sun, still attached to his arm. She looked over the steel and window that was separating them from him and wondered if they would be able to smash it and overpower him without crashing the ambulance or alerting the other members of his group.

"Where was Daryl anyway?" Glenn asked, drawing her attention away from their captor.

Maggie shook her head. She had no idea. Wherever he was, he hadn't made it over the hood of the car he had been crouched behind. She wondered if he had seen his brother and chickened out. Internally she scoffed, Daryl Dixon laughed in the face of danger. She cringed at the cliché. Besides, he needed to be okay. They were counting on him to get help.

"I think we're slowing down," Glenn released her hand and moved to the back door to peer out the window.

Maggie twisted to look out the front. They had pulled up to a set of gates that were being opened manually by a couple of people. She noted the high walls, made by tires and overturned vehicles. "Looks like a big group," she informed Glenn. "And they seem to have things pretty locked down. It's gonna be hard to escape unnoticed."

The cab moved under her feet as Glenn shuffled into place behind her, his back pressed against hers as he peered through the window over her shoulder. "Jesus," he mumbled, looking around as they pulled through the gates. "What is this place and how did we miss it all winter?"

"I'm glad we did," she took in as much of their surroundings as possible. Suddenly the ambulance jerked hard to the right, causing them to lose their balance. They landed in a tangled heap on the far wall, Glenn's knee digging painfully into her already sore ribs.

The ambulance stopped just as they were getting their bearings, and they heard the driver's door open then slam. Merle's boots crunched against loose asphalt as he came around the vehicle. Maggie felt Glenn press something cold and hard into her hand. She looked down to find a 'U' shaped door handle with a screw jutting out of it. It looked about as harmless as a wooden cap-gun.

Glenn shrugged sheepishly at her expression. "I'm improvising." He looked around and picked up a ballpoint pen.

"Are you gonna write 'em a 'thank-you' note?" she tried to joke.

Her boyfriend's expression remained serious. "Maggie-," He was interrupted by the doors to the ambulance suddenly swinging open. He stepped in front of her protectively and held one hand up in a defensive position, ready to hold off an attack.

Maggie peered over Glenn's shoulder at the man who she had learned was the older Dixon. She shivered at the sight of his knife, glinting in the sun as he jutted at them, as silent warning for them to submit. Her fingers dug into Glenn's shoulder in fear, but she fought to keep her face passive. She felt her muscles tighten and she braced herself, ready to pounce when Glenn said the word.

Merle eyed her posture then met her eyes, his glinting with amusement. "You look like a caged pussy cat," he chuckled and motioned for them to climb out. "I hope you don't scratch… wouldn't wanna hav'ta de-claw ya."

Glenn moved first, bracing himself on the wall and walking forward. His other hand slipped the pen into the pocket of his jeans. "If you touch her…" he warned, taking her forearm to help her down from the bed of the ambulance.

"You'll do what?" Merle puffed up, stepping forward until his face was inches from Glenn's. "Well? You got somethin' to say, Gook?"

Glenn lifted his chin and didn't back down until Maggie closed her fingers around his bicep, tugging him back a little. He complied and backed away from the one-armed man who gave them a sinister smile.

"How's your daddy feel about you cross-breedin'?" Merle turned his attention to Maggie.

"Funny," she rolled her eyes. "Comin' from a corn-fed inbred."

Merle's jaw ticked, but he didn't say anything else. "This way," he jutted his chin toward a three storey brick building. They appeared to be in a back alley trapped between the makeshift wall that seemed to surround this place, and a row of buildings. Maggie moved first, still holding onto Glenn with on hand. She'd tucked the handle into the waistband of her pants and the nail was digging into her hip with every step. They rounded a corner and she froze- the sound of rasping breathing and growling filling her ears. She whipped her head around and located the direction of the sound. The Walkers were caged behind large wooden doors, their grey mottled arms reached for her through the slats.

"What the hell_ is_ this?" Maggie asked, taking a step back, even though she was well out of the Walker's reach.

Merle laughed, "Let's call it a Zoo… wanna pet 'em? Pretty girl?" He reached for her and she pulled back, narrowly missing his grasp.

Merle shoved Glenn forward then reached for her, this time catching her off guard. He wrapped his arm around her elbow and shoved her ahead of him.

The threesome entered a building through a steel delivery door and made their way down a darkened set of stairs into the basement. The room was constructed of concrete floors and cinderblocks. Maggie looked over the simple furnishings: an old steel desk, a wooden chair, and a table shoved up against the far wall. The humid air was stale and Maggie crossed her arms to wrap them around herself. The room gave her the creeps.

The other people from the failed ambush back on the highway were already waiting for them in the basement.

"Better tie Pussy up," Merle said. "And I mean the girl."

Merle opened one of the drawers on the desk and pulled out a length of rope. He tossed it to the girl who had kicked her ass before.

The girl nodded and kept her knife in her hand as she took Maggie's arm.

As her hands were secured behind her back, Maggie watched Glenn being forced into a chair. Merle worked quickly, wrapping duct tape around his wrists to bind him to the chair. She looked around the room for any way that should be able to escape. She wasn't sure what Merle planned to do to her, but she assumed it wouldn't be pretty.

"I want some time alone with Glenn here," the Redneck said, leaning down to meet her boyfriends eyes. "Why don't you take the Farmer's Daughter into the other room? We'll save her for later."

The girl and another man took her by the arms and dragged her from the room. She looked over her shoulder in time to hear Merle begin his interrogation. "Now," he drawled. "Let's talk about what you know about my brother."

XXXX

Rick shoved the woman into the first cell in their block and slammed the bars behind her. She recovered quickly and rushed the bars, reaching for the sword that she had brought it with her. Oscar, who held the weapon in his hands, took a step back, holding it out of her reach.

"We don't take kindly to people who threaten ours," Rick told her coolly, his jaw ticking. He looked over to Daryl who had taken a seat on the steps while Carol saw to the gash on his head. He turned away from the sight and looked back to the stranger, his hands resting on his hips as he scuffled his feet thoughtfully. She was watching him, her eyes hard and black as coals and he felt torn.

He wanted to take out his gun and shoot her point blank. He didn't want to risk another Andrew. The group couldn't afford for him to make another mistake like that again. He looked to Lori's cell, just a few down from their prisoner's. It was his job to keep this group safe- his wife, Carl, and little Judith.

"I saw who took your friends- the girl, and the Asian boy," she finally spoke, her voice tight and low. "I know who it was…"

Rick listened without looking at her. "And so you thought… what?" He cocked his head, raising one eyebrow.

She looked down and moved away from the bars, limping heavily on her injured leg. "I can help you get them back. I know the way."

Rick set his jaw and nodded once before turning away from the cell. "Watch her," he told Axel and Oscar over his shoulder. "Closely."

"We'll have Hershel look at her leg when I get back," he decided. "I don't want him alone with her."

He stopped outside of Lori's cell and glanced over at Daryl who was busy getting his crossbow together and inventorying their weapons. They shared a silent moment that ended in an agreement. They would go after Maggie and Glenn, and they would take the woman with them. She was their best hope. Rick indicated her cell with his chin and raised an eyebrow. Daryl nodded.

If Daryl trusted her then he did too. He breathed a sigh of relief that they wouldn't have to kill her.

_He_ wouldn't have to kill her.

Rick moved forward and entered Lori's cell. She was dozing, but blinked a few times when she saw him. She offered him a tired smile and looked down at their children: Carl tucked into her side and Judith on her chest- both apparently asleep. She wiggled the fingers on her hand that was draped over the son, inviting him over.

He cleared his throat and took the few steps over to the side of her bed. "Look's like you've got bed bugs," he joked lightly.

Lori's face lit up as they shared the memory of when Carl was a newborn. Lori, as a new mother, had been insistent that the baby sleep in their bed. Rick had been a junior deputy at the time and was working mostly nights. He'd come home in the early dawn and crawl into bed, usually still in his uniform and watch his family sleep. He'd referred to their son as their little bed bug.

He paused now, looking at the sleeping pre-teen and tried to remember the last time he'd referred to his son by his nickname. Not since before he had been shot… and not since he found them by the quarry outside of Atlanta all those months ago.

"She's such an easy baby," Lori murmured, her fingers stroking Judith's back. The baby fussed and craned her head, looking up at her mother before relaxing again. "… maybe if Carl had been this easy we'd've had another sooner."

Rick nodded and made a sound in the back of his throat, agreeing with her. He felt his heart swell at the little sounds she made and he took a seat next to his wife so he could watch the baby. She looked decidedly like a mix between him and Lori, though her genetics favoured her maternal offerings.

_Mine_.

His right hand joined Lori's on Judith's back while his left rested on Carl's side, over the boy's rib cage.

She was saying something else, but he couldn't seem to find his way back from where his thoughts were turning.

Lori was still so weak… and Hershel was recovering. He wouldn't be able to take on the other group on his own… but if he took Daryl and Oscar there would be no one left to protect his group. They were spread so thin as it was… they couldn't afford to lose Glenn and Maggie. And Hershel had done so much for them. He owed him at least an attempt to bring his daughter home.

Suddenly he noticed that Lori had gone quiet. His eyes flicked to her and she was giving him _that_ look- like she could see right through him. Her hand shifted under his and she threaded their fingers, still watching him. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and when she opened her mouth to speak he released his hold on Carl and placed his hand on her cheek to silence her.

He couldn't hear any of her questions.

He didn't have any answers yet.

She watched him for another moment and then nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears, but still warm and full of understanding and something else.

_Trust_.

Rick leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face away. He felt his heart jolt. Maybe he had read her wrong. His mind flashed back to the night on the road after the farm fell. Her look of horror as he told her what he had done to Shane. The way she'd pulled away from him.

But then she laughed softly. "My breath probably stinks," she mumbled, turning her face back to touch noses with him.

He breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her. Her mouth was soft and warm against his, and most of all familiar. A small smile formed and he pulled back to look at her.

* * *

LAJB: By the crossover I assume you are referring to my Michonne hybrid. Yeah, I tried writing TV Michonne but she didn't translate to paper well for me. But I didn't want to completely abandon her and have her be completely unrecognizable to people who haven't read the novels. I do prefer novel Michonne. She is a lot more chatty and easy to write. Glad it worked for you. Oh, and I was referring to Oscar. :) Thanks so much for commenting! I missed you.

Kaz: They certainly aren't boring characters. Together or separate. They're both also really really hard to write. That chapter took me so long, and it's the shortest one I have done in a while.

TMY'reSY: Good thing you thought so. Haha. I like to hear that because it means I'm doing something write in terms of characterization. Cheers.

RR: Good to hear from you again! I know, it was such a great find! Sucks for them. Hopefully they get everyone back in one piece so they have enough people to go scouting. Thanks for your comments.

Neo: The threats we fun to write. Wasn't sure if there were too many, but then I thought, meh, it's Daryl. It would be impossible to overdo it. Glad you didn't find it boring.

Tiger: Yay! You're back. It was so good to hear from you. Glad you like my Michonne composite. Thanks so much for taking the time to review each chapter. That means so much to me.

LAJB: Ha! I liked that line too… it was really hard for me to come up with racist things to say… I wasn't sure if it was really corny or not. I don't like Merle either. And normally I don't mind writing the villain, but I really can't stand him. He is just the opposite of everything I believe in. Happy you enjoyed the chapter and I was glad to hear from you, as always. :) Hope you enjoy this one too.

LDL: I loved and hated that scene too! But SY and LC did such an amazing job in their respective roles, so it was nice to see that range. The Gov'nuh makes my skin crawl. He's really disgusting, and even more so after that scene with Maggie… and then he went back and had that tender moment with Andrea. *puke* I actually wrote this last week, way before the episode, I just had to change a couple of things to make it seamless. Glad you liked it.

RR: He is a total creep. I didn't have much fun writing him, but it needed to be done. It was, however, fun to write badass Maggie. I'm happy that you were entertained.

TMY'reSY: Thanks, hon. I have had this written for several days. Don't worry, lol, I've got the Rick/Lori covered. I'll never leave you hangin' for too long. But I do have to put them on hold sometimes so that I can get the plot moving. They can't carry the weight of the whole story themselves. ;) Hope you enjoy this one.


	12. Chapter 12

**Lori & Daryl & Rick- Tuesday, January 15, 2013**

* * *

Rick had gone to talk to the woman. Lori wasn't even sure what she looked liked but she could hear her speaking with Rick and the others. Beth had taken the baby to give her a chance to rest, and Carl had gone with his father to participate in the meeting. Her bed felt empty without the kids, so despite her exhaustion she couldn't seem to drift off without them close.

She was supposed to be sleeping, but she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation taking place in the main area of the cell-block. Their voices were hushed, so she couldn't hear the entire thing, just the main points- Something about a town, and a Governor, and Maggie and Glenn. They were planning a rescue mission, which Daryl and Rick would be heading up. Someone else volunteered, a man, and she assumed that it was one of the prisoners who had been in and out all day. She wasn't sure of the two prisoner's names, but she had seen them passing her cell, dressed in their blue jumpsuits. She wondered if they were official members of their group now.

The meeting broke up and she heard Rick tell Hershel to finish stitching up the woman's injury. Lori wondered if she had been bitten, but discarded the thought immediately. There was no way Rick would let someone in if they were a danger to the group.

Her husband appeared at the door a moment later and she tried to sit up more so that they could talk. She knew that look on his face; it was his leaving face. "So…" she breathed, offering him a watery smile, "you're going."

Instead of sitting on the chair beside the bed he eased himself onto the mattress beside her. He shuffled back against her pillow and slipped his arm around her, gently guiding her into his side. "I have to, for Maggie and Glenn, and Hershel… all of us. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

"I know," Lori nodded, wiping her eyes. "I know it's the right thing to do," she snuggled closer, ignoring the pain that the movement caused. "I'm trying hard to not be selfish and ask you to stay."

"It isn't selfish," Rick said confidently. "We almost lost each other and this feels like our second…. third chance," he reached for her hand.

Lori silently agreed, too choked up to answer him properly. He was right. She had survived against all odds, and that was a big good-luck payout. Eventually their account would dry… heck, they were probably already in overdraft. She wiped her eyes again but the tears were flowing faster than she could stem them. If she lost Rick it would be a death sentence for all of them. She couldn't keep Carl and Judith alive by herself.

But there would be no point in living in this world if they didn't do good and if they didn't do the right thing. They needed to create a world_ worth_ living in. She and Rick were responsible for teaching their children to be warm and caring and that meant putting it all on the line for the people they loved. Glenn and Maggie had done it hundreds of times for them. They did so every time they volunteered to back Rick in the thick of it.

Tilting her face upwards she captured his lips with her own. "You're a good man, Rick Grimes. And I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered and kissed her on the cheek then detangled himself from her and got out of the bed. He leaned in one final time to kiss her again before leaving the room.

Lori collapsed back into her pillows, allowing the tears and fear to flow from her. She stifled the sobs with her hand, not wanting anyone to see her break down. They all needed to be strong for Beth and Hershel.

Someone cleared their throat and she looked over to see Daryl in her doorway, his crossbow and a bag slung over his shoulder. She turned away to hide her tears and took a deep breath to compose herself, muttering an apology.

"S'all right," he said taking a step into the room. "I figured you'd be upset 'bout all this… I don't do tears too good but I wanted ta tell ya that I'll keep 'n eye on Rick out there."

Lori turned to look at the man who had once been so indifferent to all of them. He'd changed since Sophia had died, and especially over the winter. She offered him a tight smile and nodded, grateful for his compassion and dedication to them. Her palms pressed together and she held her fingers to her lips in an attempt to keep them from quivering. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice too high.

He accepted her thanks with a nod. "Take care of Lil' Asskicker," his voice took on a harder tone. "Better be in one piece when I get back," he warned. "Or I'll kick your ass."

Lori laughed and dropped her hands into her lap. "Promise."

Daryl turned around to leave. "Me too," he said over his shoulder then stepped out of the room.

Lori shook her head in disbelief, her heart feeling lighter. She trusted Daryl and Rick. She had to. She was counting on both of them to come back.

XXXX

Daryl left Lori's room and shook his head. Damn emotional woman, he groaned to himself. Rick hav'in to leave when she was still laid up, he felt bad for her, but he'd meant what he'd said about the baby. He needed her to be safe while he was gone, so he could teach her how to kick ass when he got back. _If_ he got back. Michonne hadn't made this town of hers sound like they were going to a tea party.

He was surprised to see Carol with the baby- Judith, he shook his head at the name. His was better as far as he figured. He passed the pair without a word, ignoring Carol when she called after him. Carl was busy packing the trunk and he headed in that direction. Carol was quick though and she caught up with him. He pulled away from her hand when she touched his bicep.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" He barked taking a step back from her.

Her eyes widened for a moment, surprised, but then went back to normal when she scowled at him. "Daryl," she reached for his arm again. "Don't do this," she pleaded.

"Don't you see what I'm doin' right now?" He growled, feeling anger rise inside him. She was so fucking stupid sometimes that he wanted to shake her. "I'm leavin', and I might not come back. Best you just move on and get used to bein' by yerself. That's all you can count on 'til yer dead."

Carol shook her head. "You'll come back," she insisted.

Daryl scoffed and looked her up and down- acting like she was a damn gypsy or something. A fortune teller. "Forget about it," he ordered. "Forget about the whole damn thing. You, me, the damn guard tower… it weren't never a thing."

Asskicker started to fuss in her arms and Carol turned her attention to the baby, bouncing her. The baby was throwing one hell of a tantrum, her little back arching and her arms flailing, colliding with Carol's chest. He used the diversion as an opportunity to walk away from them. "Get'er inside or she'll have every damn Walker for a mile bangin' on the fence."

When he got to the car he tossed his bag in the back. Carl was sitting on the bumper, his held tilted down as he looked at his shoes. Daryl took a seat beside him, annoyed. Felt like he was getting to be their damn psychiatrist or something. They all needed to get their shit together. He'd tell them that- when he got back.

"Your momma could use your help," he told the boy, hitting the rim of his hat to push it up over his forehead, revealing his face. "Ain't no time to sit around sulkin' like you got the Clap or somethin'."

"The Clap?" Carl asked, looking up at him, his eyes squinting in the sunlight.

Daryl shoved the kid off the bumper and onto his feet. "Just get on with it," he grumbled. "You ain't got nothin' to worry about. I got your Pa's back. Now go see if Carol and yer Ma need anythin'."

He watched the boy shuffle away then turned to the trunk to make sure they had everything.

XXXXXX

Rick watched his son drag his feet as he walked across the yard to go back inside. He frowned at the boy's downturned head and the way he shoved his hands in his pockets. He whistled to get Carl's attention and closed the barrel of his gun before slipping it back into its holster. Carl changed directions and made his way over to him looking less melancholy, though his shoulders were still slumped.

Rick placed on arm on Carl's shoulder and walked him away from the rest of the group. When they reached a more private area he stooped down to meet the boy's eyes. "Carl, I want to thank you for what you did for us."

Confusion crept across the boy's face and he shook his head slightly. "I didn't-," he started, looking up at his father.

Rick took a deep breath. "I know if you thought there was no hope that you would have done it," he told his son. "And that's what a real leader does, Carl. It's not always about knowing which call to make, but also havin' a sense of the timing of it."

Carl's eyes drifted towards the ground and Rick watched the boy thinking over what his father was telling him. When his blue-grey eyes rose again to meet his father's matching ones Rick continued. "A good leader doesn't let the world destroy them. He keeps the hope alive inside himself," he reached down to press two fingers to his son's chest.

The boy nodded, his hand moving to rest over his heart where his father had just indicated.

Rick patted him on the shoulder then straightened up. "So, I thank you, Carl, for what you did for all of us." He took a step and dropped one hand to rest on the butt of his gun. "You're gonna be the man around here for a while. If anything happens, you lock everyone in the cells to keep them safe. Okay?"

Carl accepted the responsibility with a nod, "Okay, Dad."

"You be a good leader and trust yourself. Take care of your mom and baby sister for me," Rick touched the brim of his old hat before turning to walk away, leaving Carl standing on his own.

The others were already in the car waiting for him so he moved quickly to get in behind the wheel. With one last glance in the mirror he guided the car out of the prison.

* * *

LAJB: I was thinking about that scene too when I was writing that last chapter and when Rick was going to town to find Hershel. I wanted to incorporate elements of both chapters in this one to demonstrate Lori's growth as a character. I'm glad the allusion was enough to stand out. I really enjoy writing Rick and Lori together so it makes me happy that you like reading them. I would totally write every chapter about them if I could. But I need everyone to keep the story moving… Thanks for the comments. :) Cheers.

TMY'reSY: So glad that you are enjoying the story. I really enjoy having Lori alive in this little world too. I miss her a lot in the show.

LDL: I'm glad you liked that I included that little backstory. It was something that came into my head as I was writing and it just stuck, so I went back and reworked some of the chapter to get it in there. Yeah, they are going to have to continue to address those concerns a little bit here too. I really wanted to make sure that I set up a clear contrast between the season 1/2 Lori and season 3 Lori in terms of her character development on the show.

GMSR: Wow, you went all Hood on my ass. I appreciate your support. But it's fine. Haha. You know me. I just want to be a better person and they pointed out something that I can work on personally. Happy that you liked the chapter. Let's move on. :)

Guest: I thank you for your honesty. You have given me something to think about and I have made some deductions that have led me to make some decisions that I will put into practice immediately. P.S. You didn't have to submit anonymously. ;) I don't bite. Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.

TMY'reSY: I won't. Promise. I was just considering wrapping it up sooner than I had originally planned. But I have a new plan in order so it's all good. Glad you're still enjoying it.

Tiger: It was really good to hear from you. :) Don't worry, I know how it is. Lol. Sometimes I wonder how the hell I am going to find time to write at all between work and other obligations. Thanks so much for getting caught up though and all of your lovely comments. I really appreciate your comment about the characters. It is very important to me that I find a place for everyone, so it's nice to hear that that is being well received.

LDL: I feel bad making Rick leave her. Lol. But it has to be done that that I am canon compliant. It was fun to explore that dynamic though. Your reviews are always so thoughtful and awesome. Thank you for being such an amazing and supportive reader.

Jem: Haha, it's okay. I know how it is with responsibilities getting in the way of the pleasures in life. Thank you so much for your very very kind words and encouragement. It's been a lot of fun negotiating that balance between keeping with fresh with original content while still remaining canon compliant (except of course for Lori's death). I struggle with the Carol/Daryl dynamic because I can't get a feel for where the show is going with it. Glad you're still with me and enjoying the fic. I'm sure GMSR will be very happy to see that comment. Lol. She likes to be right. :) Thanks for your support.

RR: Me too! It was a nice scene to plan out and write. Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for letting me know that you liked it.

Kaz: He does seem to be doing that more on the show, so I figured I would incorporate it here, in a different way. I had to consider very carefully how Carol not "dying" would affect Daryl's storyline. And those changes are reflected heavily in this chapter. Thanks so much for reviewing. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Beth & Carl & Glenn- January 16, 2013**

* * *

After everyone had gone outside, leaving her alone to watch over Lori and Daddy, Beth slid down the wall beside the cell that Rick had used to hold the woman who would take them to Maggie and Glenn. Daddy had gone to his cell to rest for a bit and Beth told herself she would check on him in a few minutes, after she had had a chance to pull herself together. Maggie being taken had shaken him real bad and she knew that he'd want some time to be alone with his thoughts, and maybe with God. Daddy had always been a deeply religious man and a loyal servant to the Lord, but after everything that had happened he prayed less now. She hoped he was praying for Maggie now though, because at least someone would be.

Seemed every time she tried to talk to God now she got real mad inside. She couldn't understand why he would forsake them like this and punish them for the sins of others. Sometimes she wondered if she hated him for it. But she knew that it was wrong to hate God. He was their creator and he was testing their faith now. It would not do to waiver in their devotion to him.

But if she lost Maggie, she knew that she wouldn't have any faith left. She'd been running low for so long- Her lower lip quivered and she cupped her hands over her face to hide the tears when they came.

"Beth," a soft voice drifted from the cell down from where she was crouched. "Come here, honey."

She hesitated and then pushed herself to her feet, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. Lori was sitting up in bed with her legs draped over the side, her bare feet resting on the concrete floor. She was red-faced, her forehead glistening with sweat. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her abdomen and she was bent over, pain evident on her face.

"Come here," Lori opened her arms to her.

Beth went to her, still crying, and knelt down beside the older women, burying her face into her lap. She felt Lori's fingers smooth over her hair and she sniffled, shaking with emotion as the full intensity of her fear hit her hard.

"Shhhh," Lori soothed, stroking her hair. Her voice was soft but strong when she spoke. "Everything is going to be okay," she promised. "Maggie is so brave and strong. And Glenn is smart. They will get each other through this."

Beth listened to her words and felt anger rising in her chest. Not really aimed at Lori, but the whole situation was so unfair. How could God let them come so far and then have it end so cruelly? How could he not protect them? How come he always let the bad people in this world win? She snapped her head up and glared at Lori who looked surprised by her sudden change in position.

Lori reached for her but Beth didn't want to be comforted anymore. She wanted to be angry. At God for forsaking them, and Lori for having a baby and making them go look for supplies. And Maggie and Glenn for volunteering to go. Daryl for not bringing them back. Rick, for failing them over and over and over again. He said they would be safe at the prison, but they weren't safe anywhere. He'd lied to them.

"You don't know that," she bit out, getting to her feet. "You don't know what you're talking about. You didn't lose anyone. You don't know what it's like."

Turning her back on Lori she stalked out of the room, knocking over Lori's bedside table as she passed. She ignored the loud clattering as it smashed to the floor, scattering her medicine and medical supplies. She stomped her way up to her room, not caring if Daddy saw and was disappointed.

_Fuck_- she entered her cell and took deep gulping breaths, thinking the word over and over again in her mind until it wasn't enough. "Fuck," she tried out loud. "Fuck," she was shaking so hard and she slammed her hand down on the top bunk mattress. "Fuck everything."

The word felt so wrong when she heard it in her own voice, but it felt good to say it.

"Beth?"

She whipped around to see Carl standing in the doorway, his hat in his hands, concern etched across his face.

"This _really_ isn't a good time, Carl," she told him collapsing onto her bed, her head resting on her pillow, her arms crossed over her face, blocking him out. He didn't say anything else, and she had assumed he'd left, but then she felt his hand rest on her knee. She used her hands to push herself into a sitting position and she glared at him.

"Leave me alone, Carl," she raised her voice, pushing him away. He stumbled, clearly caught off guard by her sudden outburst.

Once he had found his footing again he pursed his lips and raised his chin. "I'm not leaving. You don't have to be alone." He took a step back in her direction. "I'll never leave you."

Launching herself to her feet she grabbed his arm roughly and pushed him out of her cell. "You're a kid, Carl," she pushed him onto the walkway. "You're just a stupid kid and you have _NO_ idea what you're talking about!"

Using both her hands she used all of her strength to slam the cell door behind him then pulled the sheet that she had hung up for privacy. She pulled it closed, blocking out the site of Carl standing on the catwalk watching her, long faced.

Energy spent, she walked slowly back over to her bed and crawled into the bottom bunk. With the anger subsided there was only a hollow feeling left in her chest. She felt herself drifting back into the dark place that she had been in back at the farm after they'd put down her mother and all of the other Walker's in the barn.

Turning onto her stomach she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come and chase away the fear and hurt.

XXXX

Carl went back to his cell to put his hat on his bed then headed back down to the main area of their cellblock. He hadn't checked in with Carol since Daryl had told him to, so he planned on doing that now. He had to be the man now and make sure that everyone was okay, especially Judith and his Mom- because he wasn't just a stupid kid. He narrowed his eyes at Beth's cell as he passed it on his way downstairs. He was old enough to carry a gun and help his Dad keep the prison safe. He was old enough to shoot his mom if he'd had to… What had Beth ever done to be so "mature"?

As he went down the stairs he sighed on the inside. He wanted to be mad at Beth for what she had said, but he felt pretty bad for her too, since Maggie was missing. He remembered the time he told Carol that heaven wasn't real, and that she was stupid for believing it. He hadn't meant what he said, he was just so sad that Sophia was gone and angry for some reason. So he'd said mean things to her, and it had made him feel a little bit better. That's probably what Beth was doing now, so he would have to forgive her, like how Carol had forgiven him.

He found Carol was sitting on the floor in the room that was attached to their cell block, his little sister resting in her arms. Judith was still crying so he went over and sat cross-legged across from Carol, theirs knees touching. He watched for a few minutes, not sure if Carol wanted his help. Eventually she looked up at him, her face sad.

"She likes it when you hold her head up more," he offered and leaned forward to lift the baby's head so that she was curled up, her cheek resting on Carol's chest. "It's okay, Judith," he took her tiny hand in his and played with her fingers. He liked her hands the most; they were so cute. Judith had stopped crying he watched her yawn, her face going back to a more normal colour.

He sat back, still watching his baby sister. He liked to look at her, because she looked just like their mom. He had been worried he wouldn't like her- that he wouldn't like being an older brother. But he loved her, a lot. And he wanted to keep her safe and teach her lots of cool things.

"Do you miss Sophia?" Carol asked him.

He looked up, surprised that she asked him that. She was looking at him without blinking and he felt a little bit awkward, but he nodded. "Yeah," he looked away from her. "She was my best friend…" Carl forced himself to meet Carol's eyes again. "Do you?"

Carol's eyes flooded with tears, but they didn't fall. "Of course," she answered. "She was my daughter." She looked down at the little girl in her arms. "She makes me miss her even more."

Carl looked up curiously. "Do you hate my mom? For having a baby?" He asked. Maybe she had been worried like he had about the baby. That it would make everything change. He couldn't look away from Carol now.

"I was jealous sometimes," she admitted, stroking Judith's cheek with her index finger. "I thought it was so unfair, that she got to keep two of you, and God took away my only little girl- but now," a smile warmed her face. "God, I love her," a tear rolled down her cheek and she leaned down to kiss Judith's forehead.

Carl watched them for a moment, thinking it was real nice to see Carol holding the baby. She was really good at it too, and he understood what she meant. "Were you mad that we didn't call her Sophia?" He asked.

Carol laughed and looked up at him. She reached over to pat his shoulder. "No," she shook her head, smiling with those tears still in her eyes. "No, I think it's good that she has her own identity."

"Are you sad? Because Daryl was mean to you?" Carl asked, folding his hands in his lap. He'd overheard their conversation outside while he was waiting by the car. He could tell Daryl had hurt her feelings. He wanted to tell her that Daryl was just an asshole sometimes, but he figured Carol already knew that, on account of them practically being best friends. Besides, everyone knew that he didn't really mean it. His mom said that Daryl just had a "complicated personality". Carl wasn't really sure what that meant, but it sounded like a good enough excuse to him. Besides, Daryl was good at tons of stuff, like hunting and shooting…

Carol stopped smiling and she went kind of stiff. "You ask too many questions," she told him, shaking her head.

Carl sighed. He knew that that meant that she was upset. "Beth was mean too," he confided, feeling sad all over again as he remembered how she had treated him. "I know how it feels," he confessed and reached forward to hold her Carol's hand. She didn't pull away, but she didn't look at him either, so they both just watched Judith sleep.

XXXXXX

Maggie was quivering against him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She stayed quiet for a long time and Glenn spread his hands over her back to cover as much of her bare torso as possible. He wondered where her shirt was… he wouldn't allow himself to wonder why it wasn't on her.

He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and he held her, his mind racing. They needed to escape before they were killed. And they needed to warn the others at the prison about this group.

They wouldn't be able to fight their way out, he was injured, and they didn't have any weapons. They would have to sneak somehow. He wondered what time it was, if they would be able to use to cover of darkness. His vision was cloudy though, with his busted eye and he was pretty sure he had a concussion.

"I-," Maggie started to speak but her throat caught on a sob and she buried her face into his shoulder again.

Glenn gave her a tight squeeze. "It's okay. You did what you had to. No one can blame you for that."

She nodded against him and shivered. He looked down at the skin on her back and traced the goosebumps that had risen over her flesh, sending a jolt straight through his heart. He kissed her forehead then guided her back a little. She resisted the distance and held onto him tighter. "Hey," he whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It's okay," he tried to keep his voice assuring.

She still had tears shining in her eyes when she finally looked up at him. Her face twisted in agony as she inspected his injuries and she whimpered, reaching up to touch his eye with trembling fingers. "Where's all this blood commin' from?"

Glenn couldn't help but flinch, though he offered her a sheepish smile. "Guess I pissed him off," he joked, slipping his fingers under the hem of his shirt. He winced at the motion as he raised his arms, pulling the shirt over his head.

Merle had done a number on him and he hoped that he would get the chance to repay the favour one day. But first he would start with the asshole that had brought Maggie through. Glenn felt no guilt for the things that he planned to do to whoever that was.

Maggie protested wordlessly and reached out to stop his movements, but Glenn had already slid his arms free from his shirt. He cringed at the blood spilled down the front of it, knowing that she deserved better. But it couldn't be worse than leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Without asking her permission he lassoed her with the shirt and pulled it down to cover her, leaving his own chest bare.

"Thank you," she whispered, sliding her arms through the holes.

Glenn nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear again. He kissed her quickly and they shared a long look, drawing strength from one another. After a moment she set her mouth into a determined line and took a deep breath. He nodded, amazed and in love with her strength.

Glenn took her hand in his and they moved together to begin exploring their surroundings.

* * *

TMY'reSY: Thanks, hon. You're so supportive and I really appreciate that. I'm glad you like the story. :)

RR: I actually have no idea what I'm going to do with it yet! lol. I'm going to wait until the next episode before even trying to wrap my head around tackling that part of the story. :) Thanks for the enthusiasm.

LAJB: I like that line too. It was a great scene to write because it was fun trying to figure out how that conversation would change if Lori hadn't died. I was a little... surprised by the review, and not sure how to respond to it, but now I am moving on. Thank you for having my back. You're the best.

LDL: I know exactly what you mean about the show. I feel like Rick needs to acknowledge the emotional consequences of what Carl had to do and see. Poor little guy. Carl is one of my favourite characters and he's kind of breaking my heart these days. I'm glad Daryl is being kind of a surrogate dad though. Ah, the tower. Carol teased Daryl about it earlier and he acted like he didn't hear it... clearly he did. It wasn't part of the show. I always love your reviews so much. Thanks for putting a smile on my face.

Tiger: Phew... it means a lot to me to hear you say that. It is the one thing that I am the most sensitive to, making sure I get the characters right. I'm still new to TWD fanfiction, so in a lot of ways I'm still trying to figure them out. Your feedback is invaluable. Thank you.

Kaz: I don't know if I should bother responding, in light of the final statement in your review. Just wanted to let you know that I respect your decision to stop reading. I'm sorry to hear that you are... unimpressed with the decisions I have made, but I am glad that you enjoyed it as long as you did. I wanted to acknowledge your suggestion that I place a *warning* of sorts about the Caryl, but I honestly feel that that would be an inappropriate label for this story, considering that it is not even a secondary plotline. I appreciate your having brought it to my attention for consideration though. I will give you some feedback about your review though, if you are open to accepting it. I could be reading it wrong, but your tone came across as a little bit abrasive. I'm pretty easy going, so for me it is what it is, but for someone else that might be very discouraging. Maybe just something for you to consider. Cheers.

TWDGuest: I get that a lot of people don't like Caryl. I guess for me the interesting thing is that I hadn't actually intended for that scene to be either romantic or platonic. It was intended to be one of those ambiguous ones that would be left open for interpretation. I'm planning on not making a move with them until the show gives a clear answer on the state of their relationship. Personally, I don't care how it goes either way. I am interested to see what they will do with Carol and Tyreese though. Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts, it's always good to hear from you.

LDL: Thanks for your wonderful review! I was actually kind of pleased with the chapter too. Beth was a lot more fun to write than I had imagined she would be. I have a hard time pin-pointing her personality, so it means a lot to hear you say that it worked for you. She is such a suble character externally. But you know what they say, still waters run deep.

TMY'reSY: I wasn't sure how to have her react to Lori's attempts to comfort her. But then I went back to season 2 and I was trying to figure out if I should go with that kind of reaction, or go more with Sick... The former seemed more appropriate to me, because Beth certainly does not manage stress well. Which to me makes her very interesting. She is also pretty unapologetic about it, so we will see how that goes.

Tiger: Super helpful feedback there. :) I like realism, so to hear that I hit the mark feels really great. Thank you for always taking the time to comment. Your reviews never fail to make me smile. Thanks.

RR: I wonder the same thing. Though I guess her options are kind of limitted. Plus, I am pretty confident about where he is at in terms of her, but I am not sure what the writers are doing with her affections. It could be the classes unrequited love story. lol. Glad that I could make her a little more dynamic, lol, I just hope I did her justice. Thanks for commenting.


	14. Chapter 14

**Lori- January 17, 2013**

* * *

It felt good to be sitting up and seeing clear signs that she was making progress in her recovery. Although the infection hadn't cleared up and she still felt like she'd been stabbed- which she had been, essentially- Lori could feel her strength returning. She knew that she would need to get on her feet as quickly as possible in order to pull her own weight in the group. With half of them gone she couldn't leave everything to Carol, and be a burden to her on top of that.

The baby beside her cooed softly and Lori turned to the infant. "One second. Mommy is just getting set up," she stroked the milky soft skin of Judith's chest. The baby's arms flailed with undeveloped coordination, colliding with her mother's wrist. "We're going to get you all clean…" Lori took her daughter's tiny fist in her fingers and opened it to inspect her tiny hands. Judith was awake, peering up at her mother with a serious expression on her face.

Lori tore her eyes away and turned to the table before her. She picked up one of the towels that Carol had brought in. They were still stained a rust colour from when they had been used for Hershel's leg, though Carol assured her they had been bleached. Lori left the towel folded in half to act as a pad and then lifted the baby. "Ouch," she muttered, taking a deep breath. The pain from her incision hadn't lessened much, but she pushed through it, determined to take care of her new daughter. She laid Judith down on the towel carefully and secured her with her hand.

Judith fussed, scrunching her face up. "Shhh," Lori comforted the infant by rubbing her chest. "I'll just be a minute," she promised making quick work of taking off the baby's diaper, keeping her eyes trained on her face as she worked. With the little girl completely bare she fished a cloth out of a bucket of warm water and began to wash her, keeping her voice low and soothing as she reassured Judith by babbling nonsense.

"You're giving her a bath? Can I help?"

Lori looked up to see Carl coming into the room wearing his favourite science dog t-shirt. She was surprised it still fit him with how much he had grown over the last couple of months. "Sure you can," Lori offered him a warm smile when he came to stand across from her on the other side of the table. She was so proud of her son for how naturally he had adopted his role as an older brother. She had been worried that after thirteen years as an only child he would resent the baby. Maybe the circumstances of her birth had helped him adjust more quickly.

She watched her son as he stroked his sister's head, smoothing her feathery hair, a small smile playing on his lips. "Was I this small when I was a baby?" Carl asked.

"You were smaller," Lori answered. "You were born a little bit early," she explained. Carl had been one of the smallest of the babies in the nursery and had fit neatly into Rick's cupped hands when he was a newborn. She'd had a picture of them together like that, but it had been left behind at the farm with their other belongings. She sighed at the loss. It had been her favourite picture of her two guys.

Carl leaned over to inspect his sister closer muttering that her belly button was weird. He inspected the umbilical cord stump which had been tied off with some string. Lori watched his face, smiling. "It's kind of gross… when will it look normal?"

"Well… it will dry up like a scab and then fall off… then it will look like yours," Lori explained patiently, washing Judith's feet.

Carl made a disgusted sound. "I've seen Walkers less gross," he commented, leaning in to look even closer. Despite his words his face remained curious.

When he leaned in further Lori's eye caught on a flash of silver. She looked closer to see that a thin cord that had come loose from his neckline. "Baby? What's that?" She asked, nodding to the string.

Her son straightened up quickly and tucked it back into his shirt. "Nothing," he answered, shrugging.

Lori raised one eyebrow, imploring him to answer her question. She held his gaze and he returned her stare, his jaw setting stubbornly. Their stand-off didn't last very long before he gave in and his resolve crumbled, his shoulders slumping.

Sulking, he pulled out the cord to reveal her locket.

Lori was surprised and her own hand went to her throat; she hadn't even noticed it was missing.

"I took it… I'm sorry," he said regretfully. He moved to slip it over his head but was stopped by his mother's hand on his arm.

She held the baby in place and used her other arm to lightly pull him around the table. Once he was in reach she pulled him into a hug. "It's okay," she kissed the spot above his right ear. "Keep it," she told him, releasing him.

He raised his eyebrows, the locket closed in his fist. After a moment he nodded and returned to his spot on the other side other table next to Judith's head. "You've worn it my whole life," he said, playing with his sister's hand while Lori put on her diaper.

"That's because I've had it your whole life," she told him. "Your daddy gave it to me on the day you were born."

His eyes filled with wonder and questions but he didn't ask them. Instead he moved around the table to pass her a pink and white sleeper with feet that looked like ballerina slippers. She accepted it and started to work the baby into the outfit.

"She doesn't like getting dressed," Carl noted, scrunching his freckled nose when the baby wailed with displeasure.

Lori smiled and nodded as she made quick work of putting Judith's limbs through the right holes. She was surprised at how easily things were coming back to her even though it had been twelve years since she'd last had an infant.

"Thank you," Carl spoke up over the wailing. "For the locket," he filled in, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "I'll give it to her one day," he promised, stroking his sister's hair.

Lori lifted the crying baby to her chest, her hand moving in slow circles over Judith's back to comfort her. Lori shushed the baby, gently bouncing her. Carl watched them for a moment before picking up the bucket of water and slipping out of the room.

XXXX

The sound of rain echoed through the prison like water dripping in a tin can. Lori listened to the sound, staring at the top bunk in her _hospital room_. She was grateful for the downpour and felt hopeful that it would wash away the smell of death that permeated the prison yard. But she also worried about what it would mean for Rick and his rescue mission. She tried to hide it from the others but she was terrified that they wouldn't come back, though she knew she wasn't the only one.

A sense of premature despair had settled over the group left behind that seemed almost palpable. Beth still hadn't come out of her room, refusing to even speak to her father and they all worried that this would be a repeat of what had happened back at the farm. There was little Lori could do about it though, since she wasn't even sure she would be able to manage the stairs at this point.

She winced as Hershel cleaned her incision.

"Sorry," the old man drawled. He glanced up at her face and offered an apologetic look to match. "It's getting red around the stitching… it's a sign that the infection is getting worse, not better."

Lori nodded, turning to look back at the top bunk. Figured that she would live through the surgery against all odds and then die from an infection. Figured nothing would go right in this cruel world. Her eyes blurred with tears and the slats that supported the top bunk swam before her. She felt so ill and miserable, like she had when Shane had told her Rick was dead. The world had seemed so hopeless without him, and every second that went by where he wasn't there seemed to be another failing on her part.

She was supposed to keep him safe as much as he did her and their children. She was supposed to fight for him too. Instead she let him go out time and time again and put his life at risk. If he died and something happened to Judith or Carl as a consequence that would be on her too.

"We'll clean it more often," Hershel told her, reaching to take her hand. "And we'll increase your antibiotics."

Lori looked over at him and tilted her head, catching a flash of concern in his eyes. She took a breath to ask him what was wrong, but he silenced her by patting her hand. And then he released her and pulled himself up, using the top bunk as leverage. He reached for his crutches. "We'll get you on your feet today."

He ambled out of the room; he was surprisingly steady for someone who had had both his legs not too long ago. She watched him go, her hand drifting down to rest on the fresh bandages he had dressed her incision with. The disinfectant was still stinging and she laid back to close her eyes, pinching her brow.

A few moments later Carol came in, dressed in a fresh pair of clothes and her hair freshly trimmed. Lori shook her head forcing a smile. "You look good," she complimented the other woman, truly meaning it.

"It's the baby," Carol approached the side of the bed. "She's so beautiful, Lori… there's just something about new life that makes everything feel a little brighter."

Lori nodded in agreement, though she couldn't shake the melancholy that had settled over her. Carol seemed to spot it right away and the other woman took a seat beside her on the bed, her hand moving to rest on Lori's just as Hershel had done before. "You doing okay?" Carol asked.

Lori nodded, twisting her lips. When Carol didn't look away she felt her resolve weaken then crumble. "I'm just worried about Rick," she admitted, waving her hand in an attempt to be nonchalant.

Carol tilted her head, offering a sympathetic look but didn't say anything.

Lori smiled sadly, knowing that there was nothing the other woman could say. She couldn't promise Rick's safety, or that he would come back in one piece if he did at all. If there was one thing they had learned after all this time, after all the losses and the tragedies, it was that there were no guarantees in this world.

"Come on," Carol entwined their fingers and motioned towards the cell door. "You'll feel better… maybe we can even get you some fresh air."

"Ahh," Lori sighed, moving her legs over the side of the bed once Carol had gotten up. "The little things in life," she mused, bracing herself against the pain radiating from her abdomen. Carol slipped herself under Lori's arm and rose slowly, pulling Lori up with her. A small cry leaped from Lori's throat as her incision pulled. She turned her face, her forehead resting against Carol's cheek.

"Take your time," Carol said, supporting Lori's weight as the injured woman tried to find her feet underneath her.

Lori's legs trembled badly and she fanned her free hand over her incision. She felt like her stitches were straining against the weight of her insides as gravity pulled everything down. "Jesus," she muttered, bending over slightly at the waist.

"Do you need to stop?" Her human crutch started to guide her back towards the bed.

Lori resisted, releasing her hold on her abdomen then swiping away the sweat that had begun to build along her hairline. "No," she shook her head, reaching for the wall to further steady herself. "I can do this." Her voice held a determination that she herself doubted, but she ignored the niggling fear and discomfort.

She pushed herself to take one step, then another, promising herself that it wasn't much further to go. Lori set a goal for herself. She would make it to the stairs, and then she could sit and rest- or pass out, if the black dots dancing in her vision were any indication. Biting down on her lip, her chest heaved with each breath.

When they were halfway to the steps, Lori paused in front of a cell where Carl and Beth were sitting side by side, Judith sleeping in Beth's arms. Carl shot to his feet alarmed at the sight of his mother pale and trembling, barely on her feet. He took a step forward but was stopped when Beth rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked down to the blonde girl and she shook her head. His gaze darted back to his mother who offered him a weak smile.

Carl returned it then slowly sank down into his seat on the bunk. Lori gave him one last reassuring look before carrying on towards the steps. She glanced around the prison, and at a man she didn't know who was leaning against the wall. His blue jumpsuit gave him away as one of the prisoners whose life Rick had spared. She eyed him wearily as she was lowered into the second stair.

Lori looked around again, taking a deep breath. It felt good to see something other than the four walls of her cell. She looked at the windows, the rain splattering against the glass, then to Carol who was offering her a cup of water, her face radiating with joy.

Lori figured it must have been infectious because she smiled back with a throaty laugh. "That was great," she breathed. "But you might have to carry me back."


	15. Chapter 15

**Carl & Rick- January 20, 2013**

* * *

Carl leaned against the cinderblock wall and watched Beth rocking Judith. He'd found a pink pacifier in the yellow diaper bag that Daryl had brought back from the road on his first run. He'd cleaned it and presented it to the baby who was currently sucking on it, falling in and out of sleep, her hands curled on her chest. Carl looked up from his sister to Beth's face. She still hadn't talked to him or even looked at him since she had kicked him out of her cell before. But he was happy that she had come back downstairs so that he could see that she was okay. She'd always been so nice to him, so he'd been pretty bummed that she was mad at him.

He could tell that she was still worried about Maggie but at least she wasn't crying and yelling anymore.

Axel had come into the room to sit next to Beth and he was watching her too. Carl thought it was kind of weird that he was hanging out with them, but then again, Oscar was gone so maybe he was lonely. He'd been pretty helpful around the prison anyway, moving things around, helping find and stock supplies…

A shadow fell across the room and Carl looked over to see that Carol had stepped into the doorway. They grey-haired woman leaned against the bars with a towel twisted around her hands like a rope. She looked Axel over first for just second and then tilted her head as she looked down at Judith. One of her hands moved up to press against her heart and she smiled, shaking her head a little. She really liked the baby a lot, Carol could tell.

"You're good with her," Axel said to Beth, pulling Carl's attention back towards the bunk. "Do you have little sisters?"

Carl's eyes darted to the man's face. He didn't know why but he didn't like the way Axel sounded when he was talking to Beth. It was weird, like he was flirting really badly or something. Using his shoulders, Carol bumped himself away from the wall and took a step closer to the pair to make sure that the man knew that he was being watched.

Beth shook her head, looking at the baby in her arms.

She seemed kind of shy about talking to Axel, Carl thought. He looked at her face as her cheeks turned kind of pink and she giggled a little, but not a real laugh- more nervous.

It was true that she was really good at taking care of Judith. Carl hadn't really wondered how she had learned to take care of babies until now. Maybe it was from watching Hershel, Maggie and Daryl… maybe girls just knew what to do with babies. His mom seemed to, but she was a mom so that made sense. He remembered the first time he'd held his little sister. He hadn't been sure where to put his arms and he was scared that he would drop her, especially when she wiggled around when she was crying.

"How old are you?" Axel asked Beth, leaning in closer to look up at her down-turned face.

"Seventeen," she answered, her voice sounded high and she tucked her chin in closer to her chest, moving away from the man sitting beside her. Her pony-tail fell over her shoulder when she crouched down and the ends dangled just a few inches from Judith's face. The baby didn't seem to notice though 'cause she just kept sucking on the pink pacifier with her eyes half-closed.

Carl watched Beth crunch in on herself and she pulled the baby even closer to her. He wanted to ask her if she was okay but he wasn't sure if she was still mad at him. Plus, he wasn't sure if he should say anything in front of Axel. The man was giving him the creeps, and he could tell now that Beth was feeling the same way. The prisoner was probably just trying to be nice but he was weird. Like he _liked_ her or something. But he was really old, so Carl didn't think that made much sense.

Carol cleared her throat and everyone turned in her direction, but she was looking at Axel, her body stiff and her arms crossed over her chest. She gestured over her shoulder using her chin and turned to lead the prisoner out of the room. Axel licked his lips and followed her out, clasping his hands behind his back.

Carl held back just a moment and then went to the doorway- he wanted to listen in. If Carol thought that there was something wrong then he did too and he wanted to have all the information in case he needed to make a decision.

The two adults stopped at the bottom of the stairs to talk, not far from where his mom was sitting on a chair opening cans of food. He craned his neck a little to look at her to make sure she was okay. She looked really tired and her face was real pale as she worked. Carl pursed his lips when she winced and fumbled with the can, her hand moving to press against her stomach. His body jerked to go to her but he held himself back. He wanted to hear what Carol was going to say to Axel and he wasn't sure if she would talk in front of him. Wrapping one hand around the cell door he divided his attention between his mom and the discussion.

His mom's dark eyes were watching Axel and Carol as she listened in on their conversation too.

He couldn't hear too clearly what they were saying, but Axel was saying something about Maggie and Glenn, and he heard his parent's names. His eyes flashed back to his mom when her face changed, like she was laughing on the inside. He smiled a little at her expression; it was nice to see her happy again. She had reacted to the word _Lesbian_ and Carl squinted. He knew that the word meant, like Gay- but for girls. Carol wasn't gay he didn't think, because she used to be married to Ed.

Carol was shaking her head a little, her expression similar to his mom's.

Carl felt his mood darken though when Axel said something about Beth. He looked to his Mom to check her reaction and found that she had stopped smiling and was looking worried about something. She didn't seem to trust Axel either, but she didn't trust most people when she first met them, especially now a-days. He would talk to her later and tell her not to worry. He would take care of her and the rest of the group.

"Gross," Beth said from behind him and he turned around to see her using Judith's pajama's to clean white puke off the baby's chin. The pacifier has fallen to the floor at her feet so went over to the girls and picked it up. He inspected it and found that it didn't look too dirty. He wondered if he should wash it again before giving it back to her, but when Judith started to fuss he shrugged and wiped it off on his shirt before popping it back into her mouth.

"Thanks," Beth whispered, talking to him for the first time since she had come back downstairs.

Carl nodded and sat down beside her on the bed. Reaching forward he closed his hand around his sister's foot. When Beth didn't say anything else he looked up at her face. "Do you like me?" He asked, clearing his throat. He hadn't meant to say it so quietly but it's like he couldn't make his voice do what he wanted. His stomach kind of fluttered and he looked down at Judith because he couldn't look at Beth anymore without wanting to puke.

"Of course I like you," Beth answered.

Carl sighed. "No, I mean _like _me. Like, _like, like_," he clarified, stumbling over the words. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he hoped that his face wasn't going red. He didn't want her to think he was a loser.

"You're kind of young, Carl," she told him, her fingers tracing Judith's almost invisible eyebrow.

His own brow pinched and he finally looked up at her, scowling. "Axel's a little old…" He said defensively. He felt mad that she kept saying stuff about how old he was.

Beth nodded. "And gross," she agreed, finally smiling at him, her blue eyes crinkled a little as she laughed. "Have you seen his moustache?"

Carl felt his body relax and his anger dulled a little, but he was still annoyed. "Do you think I'm a kid?"

Her smile didn't fade and he could tell she was trying to be nice to him, so they could be friends again. He knew she wasn't trying to hurt his feelings, but that kind of made it worse. Like he was teasing him or something. He continued to look at her, his expression serious as he waited for a real answer. Her smile didn't disappear all the way, but it shrunk a little. "Most of the time, no," she shook her head. "But sometimes yes," she admitted reaching over to rest her hand on his arm. "But that happens less and less… and I guess I like it when you act like a kid. I want to protect that part of you, Carl. Because you deserve to be a kid still."

"That's bullshit," he growled, pushing himself to his feet. He stalked across the room and leaned his back against the wall again, still facing him. "My Dad doesn't think so. And I'm the man here now," he argued, resting his hand on his gun. "I'm the leader; I take care of this place. I take care of the group."

Beth was quiet, her mouth a straight line. She looked at him, her eyes kind of sad. Finally she blinked and nodded a little, barely enough to move her head though. She offered him a tight smile and got to her feet, cradling the baby to her chest. "I should get her to Lori," she announced. "She's probably getting hungry."

Without saying anything else she left him alone, frowning to himself.

XXXX

Night had fallen around them as Rick and his group approached the walls of Woodbury. They crouched down behind and old clapped out car, Michonne bringing up the rear. Rick's eyes swept over the make-shift walls of the town and he couldn't help but feel mildly impressed by the construction work. He wondered how this Governor could have pulled something like this off without suffering mass casualties- they were a strong and well organized group, there was no doubting that.

"Damnit," he muttered.

Rick felt resentment towards this man whom he had not yet met. While he had been leading his group in circles all winter, starving and freezing with no shelter, there had been a little oasis in the middle of all of it. Maybe if he had been a stronger leader he could have created a place like his for his people- for Lori and Carl and little Judith. Then Hershel wouldn't have been bitten, T would still be alive… Lori wouldn't have given birth in the middle of a damn boiler room, sliced open like an animal and left to die.

Daryl and Oscar shifted behind him startling him out of his thoughts. "We need to downsize," he told them, already stripping off the weapons that would slow him down. There was no way they were getting over the wall loaded down. The other two men in their party of four didn't hesitate in sorting through their things to determine what would be the most necessary.

"Ain't no way we're gonna check in all them buildings," Daryl said. "I wonder how many guards there are…"

The sound of a snapping twig in the forest behind them startled the three men and they whipped around, weapons raised. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw Michonne emerge from behind a tree. She motioned for them to follow her, her finger placed over her lips, shushing them.

Rick took a deep breath. He was wound tighter than a three dollar watch… they all were. They needed to cool down before they screwed up. Daryl and Oscar were looking at him and he nodded. "Go ahead," he consented and they pushed off the ground to follow their guide.

Michonne moved confidently through the woods and it didn't take her long to lead them through a weak spot in the perimeter. They were barely on the other side of the fence before she made a hard right and led them into the doorway of a building. The streets of the town were dark and deserted so it wasn't hard to force the door without alerting anyone. It had only been boarded up partway and the group ducked easily under the slats.

"This is where you were held?" Rick asked Michonne, his eyes sweeping the long hallways that led into a larger room.

"I was questioned," Michonne clarified as the group fanned out to search the room.

Daryl moved smoothly towards the far wall to peer out one of the windows.

"Any other idea where they could be?" Rick took Daryl's lead and joined him at the windows where the other man had pulled back the curtain to peer out. The streets were lit by large fires that illuminated the darkness. He was surprised to find that there were still people around.

Daryl was thinking along the same lines. "I thought you said there was a curfew." The Redneck turned away from the window to give Michonne a slow burning look.

Michonne didn't back down and her voice rose an octave defensively. "The streets are packed during the day- those are stragglers," she informed them.

Rick kept his back to them as his eyes darted around the streets of the town. It seemed liked another world to him. People walkin' around like they didn't have their backs up… like they weren't afraid of what was just on the other side of the walls. "If anyone comes in here we're sitting ducks," he watched a couple stroll down the street, hand in hand. He could here their laughter drift through the night… like everything was… normal. "We've gotta move."

"They could be in his apartment," Michonne suggested.

Daryl released the curtain and stalked in her direction, his shoulders squared, ready to intimidate. "What if they ain't?!"

Rick moved with him, trying to push the image of the couple out of his mind. Maybe if they had found this place sooner that would be him and Lori. And Carl would be safely tucked in bed, not worried about scrounging around in kitchens for scraps of food…. How much ammunition they had left. Maybe they shouldn't be fighting this Governor, maybe they needed to find a way to make it work so they could stay. "You said you would help us," Rick accused Michonne, wondering if he was on the right side at all. The woman shifted her weight off her sore leg and his eyes darted to look at her torn pants and the blood still oozing into the fabric…

He gave his head a shake. The woman was a walking advertisement for why they couldn't be associated with this group. She was right, they were dangerous, and they still had Maggie and Glenn… Michonne answered but he brushed passed her, his mind racing- except maybe she wasn't. He'd done awful things to others to protect his people… from those men in the bar that night that Hershel had disappeared. From Randall- he'd given the boy a death sentence, had him tortured. And Sh-Shane- his lip curled at the thought of the man who had been his best friend. And he'd killed the prisoners, without a second thought. Maybe this Governor was only doing what he had to do to keep his own people safe. Maybe he wasn't so different from Rick at all.

He shook his head again and waited for Daryl and Oscar to join him closer to the door, out of Michonne's earshot. It didn't matter if he and the Governor were made from the same stalk- he needed to look out for his own people. And he would take down anyone that tried to mess with him, including the woman still standing on the other side of the room.

"If this goes south," he whispered to the two other men once they were crowded in close, "we're cutting her loose." Rick turned to look at Michonne.

"You think she's leading us into a trap?" Oscar asked.

Daryl looked sideways at the black man. "Right now it's the blind leadin' the blind," he observed, his eyes shifting back to Rick. "We'll split up."

He'd barely gotten the words out before there was a loud knock on the door. They all jumped in surprise and turned towards the sound just as the lock snapped open and a man stepped inside. Rick pushed Oscar and Daryl backwards until the three of them were concealed by a curtain that separated the room. He looked over to see Michonne duck underneath a table until she was concealed completely in the shadows.

The man announced that he knew they were there, but they held back until he was close enough for them to overpower him. The three men leapt out of their hiding place in one synchronized motion and cornered the man, Rick's gun pressed against his cheek. He ordered Daryl to bind the man's hands and they began their interrogation. The Woodbury resident denied knowing anything about Glenn and Maggie's whereabouts and thus proving himself useless was knocked out and dragged behind the curtain.

Rick took a deep breath and breathed a sigh of relief. They needed to hurry up and get their people so they could get out before anything else happened that they wouldn't be able to manage. He needed to get back to his family.


	16. Chapter 16

**Carl & Lori- January 24, 2013**

******The next chapter posted will be NEW content.  
**

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Carl hung on the bars outside of his mother's cell and listened to Hershel's soft voice. He'd threaded his feet through the lower rung to use it as a step and then wrapped his arms around the highest row- like a monkey in a zoo. His Mom had gone back to lay down for a bit and had taken the baby with her to try to feed her. Judith had been fussy and kind of annoying all day. He knew she was just a baby and that it wasn't her fault, but he wished she would stop crying for, like, five minutes or something.

It had grown dark outside and he wished they could turn the generator on for a bit to get some real light… most of the time they just went to bed when it got dark, but they all wanted to wait up for the rest of the group to come back. He was pretty worried about his dad- and his mom too.

His mom wasn't feeling too good, so Hershel had gone in to check on her. He said she that had a fever from the infection and that she had overdone it through the day. She hadn't really done too much as all. Just cooked a little- and Carol had done most of it. He thought she was better, since she was out of bed.

The baby started to cry again so he pushed away from the bars and trudged over to the other side of the room to where Beth was sitting on the steps. She looked up at him from her lap where she was loading a clip with the last of their ammunition. She was wearing her pants rolled up to her knees and her boots weren't long enough to hide all of her skin… he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. "Hey," he greeted her, sitting down on the step beside her.

"Hey," she whispered back, looking back down to the bullets. "Is Lori okay?"

Carl shrugged, looking over at the blonde. She had her hair in a pony-tail and it looked really pretty. He wondered what it would feel like, too… nice, he would bet. "Are you still mad at me?" He asked.

Beth shook her head. "I wasn't mad at you, Carl. I'm just worried about Maggie and the others… I thought you were upset with me." She looked like she wanted to talk more about it, 'cause she took a breath and opened her mouth, but then they heard the sound of clicking and shuffling as her father made his way over to them.

"Lori and Judith are asleep," he announced. "Little one has a set of pipes on her."

Carl turned away from Beth to look at the old man. "Is she okay? My mom?"

"She needs antibiotics," Hershel told them, leaning against the railing. "Our supply won't hold out more than a week. And we need more antiseptic lotion and rubbing alcohol. "

He saw Beth turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'll go with Carol on a run at the end of the week," he sat up straighter, thinkin' on how he liked it that Hershel had told him about the problem. And that he was the one to decide what they'd do about it.

"Your Dad will be back by then," Beth said softly, her blue eyes searching his face. She was always trying to comfort him. He liked it, sort of, because of the way her voice sounded when she did it. But he knew this time that she was just trying to be nice and that she was probably wrong. His dad could be dead, and there wasn't enough time for them to sit around and pretend that that wasn't true.

"We don't know that," he sighed, turning to look at her. "Right now Mom is the only family Judith and me've got." He breathed out heavily and turned to Hershel who nodded just a little bit.

Suddenly the sound of a scream echoed through the prison, cutting into their conversation.

"What was that?" Beth asked, looking to her father.

"That was from inside," Hershel said meeting Carl's eyes.

Carl sat up even straighter. "Was that Carol?"

"She's outside, keeping watch in the guard tower with Axel," the old man shook his head.

Carl took the clip from Beth's hand and checked it over quickly to make sure that it was loaded properly.

"What if they came looking for something?" Beth's blue eyes had widened and her voice sounded nervous as she too started to pull herself forward. "What if they're in trouble?"

She and Hershel continued to talk while Carl snapped the clip into his gun, blocking them out. Excitement rushed through him and tingled in his finger tips; he was thrilled to finally be getting some action after all the babysitting and boring chores that he had been doing all day. He looked up in time to catch the end of Hershel's sentence.

"…tombs are filled with Walkers that wandered in from outside. Someone else could have done the same thing."

"I'm going," Carl turned around and picked up his silencer. He screwed it in place while he got to his feet. As he took a step forwarded he was suddenly gated in by Hershel's raised crutch.

"I can't let you go down there," Hershel told him, keeping his crutch firmly in place.

Carl tilted his face up. On the second step up he was almost at eye-level with the old man. "My father would go." He narrowed his eyes at Hershel, but only for a second. This wasn't a negotiation, and it was a debate. There was no challenge to be made, because he was going and that was that. It was his job to take care of the group now.

Hershel backed down and nodded, moving his crutch. As Carl darted down the stairs he felt pride swell in his chest. He'd won. They respected him as a leader. He jogged towards the gate but his stride was broken as he screeched to a halt when someone stepped in front of him. Surprised, he jumped back and looked up to meet his mother's eyes looking down at him.

She was wavering on her feet, like a tree in a windstorm, but she had on her mom face that almost had him backing up. Instead, though, he checked the clip on his gun and avoided looking at her.

"Move," he ordered, trying to take a step around her, pissed that she was trying to ruin this.

Instead of giving in she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. "You can't go down there. It isn't safe… you saw what happened. With Hershel… T-Dogg… me," she shook her head. "You aren't going alone."

Carl rolled his eyes. "I know what I'm doing."

Reaching up he shoved her hand away, but not too hard, 'cause he could tell that she was in a lot of pain.

"Carl-," she stepped in front of him again when he tried to move around her. "Stop."

"No, you stop!" He yelled, glaring at her. Her eyes widened a little, and he continued. "You died! You told me that I had to do the right thing. You told me that I had to take care of dad! You went away and now you're back and you think you can just tell me what to do again, like I'm some stupid baby." Reaching out he laid his hand on her forearm and pushed her out of the way, a little harder this time. He ignored her wince and her sad expression. "You died, and I grew up- and now you're trying to take it back. Well you can't, so back off!"

He stormed passed her and threw open the gate without giving her a second glance.

The halls were pitch black as he moved through them, his flashlight beam barely enough to cut the darkness. The screams continued and he followed them further into the tunnels of the prison, winding his way further and further into the maze. He recognized the area immediately though as his eyes swept over the partly open large steel door. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the screams echoed from inside the boiler room, sending a shiver down his spine.

_Mom_…

A louder scream followed by a man shouting snapped him out of it and he pushed forward and into the room.

XXXX

The sun was peeking up over the edge of the window and Lori looked towards Beth and Hershel in the new light. They were all exhausted, having not slept through the night. She'd slept for a couple of minutes earlier, but she'd been up since Carl had left. She worried the hem of her shirt between her fingers, her nails picking at the seams as her body throbbed with pain and anxiety. He'd been gone for a while and she was in the right mind to go look for him, which Hershel said put her in the wrong mind. And he wasn't wrong, not even a little bit, but she couldn't sit any longer just waiting.

It seemed that that's all she ever did. Wait for Rick to come back or to leave again- and now Carl.

His words had stung her deeply. It had taken everything in her to hold back the tears and her throat still ached with the effort. She thought things had changed, that they would go back to whatever accounted for normal these days, but maybe they hadn't. Maybe they were all too far gone now. If Carl still couldn't stand her, then maybe Rick would go back to hating her too. Maybe she'd been fooling herself and the damage was too deep. Maybe the last couple of days had been a honeymoon period before they all slipped back into reality and she wound up alone.

At that thought a tear finally broke free and slipped down her cheek. She turned her face quickly towards the barred windows to hide her surfacing emotions from Beth and Hershel. Dropping her chin, she rested her fevered cheek on her hand. After a moment she shook her head, scolding herself for being teary and emotional. Here Beth and Hershel were worried about Maggie, and Carl and Rick were gone, and she was crying because her feelings were hurt. Despite recognizing the pettiness of it, though, she was unable to stop the next tear from falling.

The sound of the heavy exterior door swinging open on squeaky hinges startled her and she pulled herself to her feet. The sudden change in position sent her head spinning and a wave of nausea swept over her. She gripped the handle tightly to steady herself. The large bang had woken the baby too and she looked to Hershel who was closest to the cell where her daughter had been sleeping. He held up a hand to assure her that he would take care of it and she nodded gratefully.

Lori could hear Carl's voice accompanied by others that she didn't recognize. She made her way slowly over to where Beth stood against the bars that separated them from the other room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her son apparently unharmed. The room continued spinning as she felt lightheadedness creep over her and she knew she had pushed herself hard today. She just needed to keep going for a little while and then she would rest. She noticed Beth looking at her and she offered the young woman an unintentionally wobbly smile. Reaching up she swiped at her eyes then turned back towards the commotion on the other side of the bars.

Carl had brought others with him: two men and two women- one of them apparently dead, her body laid on the cement floor, her eyes frozen open. Lori leaned against the bars next to Beth, watching her son as he stood with his gun raised over the motionless woman.

"No, I'll do it," a well-built black man said from a crouched position on the floor. "We take care of our own."

Carl nodded and turned away from the group of newcomers. He made his way towards herself and Beth, the large ring of keys hanging from his pants. Lori searched her son's expressionless features as she avoided looking at her. He slid one key into the lock and twisted it, snapping door open. He gave it a heavy push and she stepped to the side to avoid being hit. Beth had moved too, but she quickly stepped back into position next to Carl when he closed and locked the doors. Lori ached to reach out and touch him, but instead she closed her fingers around the bars and turned her eyes forward.

The young woman from the other group reacted immediately to the sound of the door closing and sprung to her feet. "Hey! What are you doing?" she demanded, charging towards them.

The other man looked over at them. "Kid- Did you just lock us in here?" He asked.

The girl looked between them, her eyes settling on Carl as she ordered him to open the door, her voice rising in anger.

Carl squared his shoulders and held the woman's eyes. "This room is secure. You'll be safe. You have food and water."

His voice held a confidence and determination that Lori had never heard before from him and he turned to look at him in surprise. He seemed so steady… almost like Rick. The idea brought a small smile to the corner of her mouth.

"Open this door," the woman ordered again, her voice dropping to convey an implicit threat.

"I can't," Carl said softly, and then looked to his mother for the first time since he had come back. His grey eyes flicked over her and his brow pinched, showing that he still was not pleased with her.

"Come on. We're not animals. HEY!" The girl closed her fists tightly around the door and rattled it, her voice shifting again to a begging tone.

Lori took a step back, worried that things would become violent. Something touched her hand and her eyes whipped down to see Carl's fingers sliding around her own. She stared at their twisted hands with wide eyes. His hand felt so firm and strong, but his skin was still baby-soft. Looking up she caught the small smile that he offered to her and she gave him one back, accepting his intended comfort.

"Sasha! Back away from the door. Let the man go." A deep voice cut through their moment and they both turned back towards the black man. Carl perked up again at the word _man_. "Look around you, it's the best we've had in weeks. His house. We've got other things to do…. We don't want any trouble."

Carl's grey-blue eyes showed his inner pride at the respect that he had earned. He nodded slightly, accepting what the other man had said.

"Shouldn't we help them?" Beth asked, her voice soft and timid.

"We did."

Lori felt the smile on her face fade away. She blinked rapidly to clear the black dots that were dancing in her vision, but they remained. She felt the strange sensation of the blood draining away from her face and she waivered on her feet. She reached out to grip the bars beside her, pulling her hand out of Carl's, but her fingers went straight through the bars as her fuzzy vision refused to lock on them.

She felt Carl's arms wrap around her waist, colliding with her incision, and she jackknifed with the pain before everything went black.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rick & Daryl- January 26, 2013**

**Here is the first NEW chapter. Please don't forget to leave me a few words. Based on the response I am going to decide if I will continue this story or just finish up the promised chapters and then leave it.  
**

**Please submit an anonymous review if you aren't able to submit one for this chapter because I consolidated old ones. Or you can submit it via PM. Sorry for the hassle!  
**

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Smoke clung heavily to the air around him, blocking his view of the main street of Woodbury. Most of the people who were defending it against his own group had become lost in the smoke as well, making him feel walled in. Rick glanced over his shoulder to see Maggie and Glenn use a vehicle as a booster so they could scramble over the fence and make their escape. The Asian man moved painfully slow as he struggled with his injuries. Once the couple cleared the wall, he would make his move to follow them, but first he would need to get Daryl who had gone rogue since finding out about Merle.

Rick's heart was pounding wildly in his chest as he scanned the street before him, and it seemed the harder he tried to calm his nerves so that he could form a cohesive plan, the more his brain felt scrambled. Maybe he'd inhaled too much smoke or something, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath long enough to form a rational thought that existed outside of a single one: he had to get back to Lori, Carl, and Judith. Part of him regretted leaving them at all, especially now that their plan to slip in and out had gone so awry.

He'd promised himself that he was going to get them all through this, but it felt like the Universe or God or whatever the hell was calling the shots had other ideas. His eyes flicked upwards towards the sky with a question that was answered by the thick smoke forming a wispy canopy that hid the stars. If there was a God, he had not come to this place for a long time.

Rick's head throbbed with exhaustion as he lowered his gaze hopelessly to earth to see a figure charging towards him through the breath of fog. He froze and his brain seemed to slow and speed up all at once as he tried to understand how he could be seeing what couldn't be possible. The ghost took form as it came closer, shifting into a man, an assault weapon held across his chest, his deadly eyes fixed on Rick's.

_Shane. _

The sound of a phone ringing cut through the town that had gone quiet around him. The jingling pulsed in his ears and it occurred to him that he must be dreaming again. Rick's eyes stayed glued to Shane as he fought the urge to collapse under the weight of his overwhelming confusion.

_Is this real?_

Rick's lip curled and he felt hatred course through him.

_You think you can just come back here and destroy everything?_

His eyes settled on the other man's chest as his weapon moved across it to settle into his side. A glint of silver caught his eye and Rick squinted to see it in the unstable light of the flames around them. The small heart-shaped locket glanced off Shane's chest with each undulating step he took, the silver catching the burning red and orange hues of the fire. Rick's own face twisted with the agony of knowing that Shane had torn apart some of the good in them away with him. He'd forced Rick's hand and forced him into a tyrant. From beyond the grave his best-friend had driven a wedge between himself and Lori, he'd turned him cold to her pain- she could have died knowing only his hatred and malice.

Shane's gun lit up his face as he flicked the trigger and Rick rose to his feet. He wouldn't allow this man to come back and take any more from them. He wouldn't lose Lori to him, or Carl, or Judith either. He'd kill Shane a thousand times to save her- to keep her.

The gun in his own hand recoiled as he pulled the trigger, aiming it high at the other man's throat. The bullet hit his target easily, causing Shane's body to reverse direction and fall backwards.

Still in disbelief Rick walked numbly over to the fallen man, his chest heaving as the adrenaline left his body, only to find that it wasn't Shane at all. His mind had created something that wasn't there at all, yet, it still felt so real.

The ringing had stopped and he lifted his head as the world snapped back into motion. He spotted Daryl ahead of him and he called out to him, trembling with confusion and shock. Daryl called something back, and though he could barely hear it over the roaring in his own ears, he interpreted the other man's lips.

_-cover you. _

Rick hesitated until his thoughts turned back to his family. He needed to get back to them. Daryl would come.

XXXX

The town around him was hidden behind a fog thick, enough that he felt like he was in his own world. He'd pulled away from Rick to push forward, even though he knew that he should be making his escape with the rest of the group. But he wasn't thinking rationally, and he accepted that- his brother had always had that affect on him. As a child he'd broken every rule for Merle: lied, cheated, stolen. Maybe it was because he was the only family he'd ever really had, as shitty a family as that was. Merle hadn't thrown much his way besides scraps to keep him coming back like a pathetic feral cat. But a shitty home and family was better than none as he'd learned during his time in the system before he got dumped up north with his grandparents.

The town around him was a full on war zone. People were firing at ghosts in the smoke, but not really sure what they were aiming for. Daryl knew what he was looking for though as he crouched down low to avoid having his brain splattered. He wasn't sure where he'd find his big brother in the chaos, but he knew that he couldn't walk away now. After a year of believing that he was dead- well, he still wasn't sure that he believed that he wasn't. His lifted his line of vision towards the edges of the roofs of the buildings lining the streets in order to orient himself, since he couldn't see anything at ground level.

Maybe he wasn't even sure that Merle was really alive, but if he was, he wasn't surprised that he'd fallen in with this bunch of assholes. Merle had always found his way into the rough crowd and it had never done him any good. The thing was, he fit in with them 'cause he could be a real shit-head at times. Daryl shook his head. But he was family, and you had to take care of your own.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, he couldn't see Rick anymore. He figured they had already hopped the fence and he wondered if they were waiting for them on the other side. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he thought of the group as family, or that he was even fond of them, but he'd found a place with them. For the first time in his life he felt like he could contribute, like he was needed. They needed food and he could do that. He could be Rick's right arm too. His thoughts turned to Carol and he cringed at the shit he had said to her before he left. He'd meant it, sort of. It was true that they were all going to die at some point, and so they all needed to be ready to carry on without each other. But maybe that didn't mean that they couldn't find a kinship in the mean-time.

Daryl raised his weapon and pulled the trigger but the empty barrel gave only a dull click. Swearing under his breath, he tossed the weapon to his side. If he had anything between his ears it wouldn't have mattered that he was out because he should have been on the other side of the wall by now and long gone from this shithole. But, Merle had always had a way of getting him into shit. Like the time he'd bunked at Daryl's trailer and left a stash of cocaine for the parole officer to find. That stunt had gotten them both kicked off the pad and straight out of the park. He started to push himself to his feet so he could make a run for it.

Before he could even make it into semi-standing position, though, Daryl froze again as another memory came back to him: the time that Daryl had gotten himself in a jam at the bar. He'd hustled a game of pool and pissed off some of the guys. Before he'd known what happened he'd had a broken bottle at his throat. Merle'd jumped the table like some kind of a damn gymnast and clocked the guy. He hadn't hesitated in coming to Daryl's defense even though he'd roughed him up on the way home for being an idiot and getting them banned from the bar.

"Fuck," he muttered, reaching for his knife. He'd known all along he wasn't going anywhere without Merle. He moved to sprint forward while the path ahead of him was clear, but was stopped when strong arms closed around him from behind, putting him in a choke hold. He shook the person hard to loosen their hold until he felt the barrel of a still smoking gun press to the side of his head.

Panting for breath he raised his hands in surrender.


	18. Chapter 18

**Lori- February 02, 2013**

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Lori felt like she was being assaulted by her senses as she resurfaced into consciousness: the smell of cooking, the baby whimpering and the feeling of someone touching her, tugging at her clothing. She tried to push the hands away but her own were immediately secured at her sides as someone leaned over her, hushing her in the process. When her eyes opened her view was filled with a soiled neutral coloured shirt, its top button opened to reveal white chest hair.

"Hershel," she rasped, her throat painfully dry.

The man released his hold on her and dropped back heavily into his seat. "You've got to hold still, Lori," he patted the hand that was closest to him. "You're alright, but you need to take it easier."

The old man continued his work on her incision site, and the smell of rubbing alcohol became stronger in the room, overwhelming whatever food was being prepared in their small makeshift kitchen. Lori shifted uncomfortably at the stinging sensation and pressure that accompanied Hershel's work.

"What happened?" she asked, turning to look around the room in confusion. She remembered being with Beth and Carl, and there were newcomers… and she remembered feeling dizzy and then nothing. Her disorientation only increased when she tried to clear her mind, so she turned her thoughts to the present. "Carl? Is he alright?"

"Carl is fine," Hershel tore some fabric from a stark white sheet and laid it over her abdomen. "Worried about you, but he's keeping himself busy…" he finally looked up to meet her eyes. "Asserting himself where he can." His final words her accompanied by a wink.

Lori wasn't sure how to respond to his presumed chagrin. Her own doubt must have become evident on her face because he immediately rested his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance.

"I remember when my own were his age," Hershel drawled. "They like to take a running leap at boundaries." He chuckled at his memories, though Lori could sense some melancholy in his retrospect. She could relate to the bittersweet feeling that accompanied looking into the past at a life that had dissolved almost overnight. She missed the simplicity of the days gone by, the security that she had taken for granted; that she had never questioned.

She really missed movie nights with Rick, curled up with a cold beer and a bowl of buttery popcorn, their feet tangled up in the space between them as they leaned against opposite ends of the sofa. If he'd already seen the film he would spoil it by nudging her foot each time something interesting was about to happen. Then look over at her to watch her reaction.

Now, she smiled sadly at the memory. In the latter years of their marriage all these things that she had once found endearing had become ammo for arguments. She'd nag that it made her feel weird when he looked at her. That he always ruined the movie for her. By the end movie night became a warzone where the space between them because the battlefield that neither were willing to step out onto. Even to offer a white flag.

Lori closed her eyes and turned her face to the wall where she would be able to collect herself and reign in her turbulent emotions. "Baby hormones," she joked when Hershel squeezed her shoulder.

"You need to take it easier, Lori." Hershel's voice was firm. His cold hand rested against her forehead and then the back of her neck.

Lori laughed humourlessly. "This world isn't one that has much patience for those who can't keep up," she turned her head to look at him, catching his eye as it flicked down to the stump that had once been his leg. She felt her eyes widen as realization set in about what she had said. "I'm sorry, Hershel. That was-," her apology was cut short when he raised his hand to stop her.

The old man wore a knowing smile that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes. "Don't trouble yourself," he said. "I already know and I've accepted these are probably the last days of my life. I only hope that I can use them wisely."

Lori's protest was interrupted by the soft cry of her infant daughter. "She must be hungry," she started to push her self up, but was stopped by Hershel's hands.

"Hold your horses," he spoke softly, grabbing the pillows from the top bunk. He eased them behind her, propping her into a more upright position, though she was still inclined enough that her wound wasn't strained. Once she was settled he lifted Judith and passed her to her mother, averting his eyes politely as she positioned the baby.

Lori looked to the older man, still feeling guilty for what she'd said. She knew that one of her worst habits was letting her mouth run ahead of her brain. She turned her attention back to her baby; she loved these moments when she could just hold her and bond with her. She wondered how different the little girl's life would have been had she died in the boiler room. Who would hold her? Rock her?

By the time she looked up she realized that Hershel had slipped out of the room. She wondered how deeply she had been lost in thought to not hear him maneuvering awkwardly with his crutches.

"How's that, my sweet girl?" she stroked the baby's cheek with her index finger.

Lori had just transferred the baby to her shoulder when Carol came into her cell, a pile of fresh linens in her hands. They looked to be factory folded and fresh out of the packaging.

"Thought you might like some fresh bedding," Carol tilted her head, admiring the baby. "Oh, I could just squish her," she stepped further into the room to place the bedding on the top bunk.

"Do you want to burp her?" Lori offered, alternating between rubbing and patting Judith's back.

Carol nodded and took the baby from her mother.

"I was thinking…" Lori slowly eased her legs off the bed and got to her feet, using the bunk as a support railing. "Maybe it's time that I pick a cell for Rick and me- for when he gets back. Maybe we can push two bunks together… to give us some more space?" Her question came with an air of uncertainty. She wasn't even sure if her husband was ready to sleep with her again. And she also was wary of asking for so much help from the others when she was barely contributing to everyday chores.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Carol agreed, moving her chin back to look at the baby's face. She cringed when her neck was splattered by milky spit-up.

Lori gave her a horrified look and reached to take her daughter back. Her advance was waved off by Carol who snagged a towel from the top bunk and started to clean herself up. "I've had one of these before," she chuckled softly. "It'll take more than that to scare me off."

"Where's Carl?" Lori asked, shuffling painfully around her friend, one hand holding the cotton material in place that Hershel had laid over her incision. It hadn't been taped or secured in place and she figured he was leaving the wound over to breathe.

Carol followed her out into the common area. "Outside." At Lori's alarmed expression she nodded towards the door that led to the overpass that connected their building with the adjacent one.

Lori breathed a sigh of relief. "You got her?" She asked, referring to her daughter.

The other woman nodded and headed towards the camping-stove where something was simmering in a pot. Lori left her and made her way outside to find her boy. He was where Carol had told her, sitting on the ground, his back against the fence outside as he looked out over the prison yard and the straggling Walkers that moved around within its fences.

"Hey," he looked her over when he heard the door open. "You look better," Carl commented, turning his eyes to look straight ahead again.

Lori nodded and made her way over to him. "C'mere," she beckoned to him, twitching her fingers to indicate that he should stand. When he did, she tucked the cloth into her pocket and pulled him into a hug. She removed his hat without releasing him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, you know."

"I know," he assured her.

She sighed and turned her head so that her cheek rested where she had placed her kiss. "I'm sorry that things are hard between us right now. But I need you to know that I only ever want to keep you safe. I don't mean to make you think I don't respect you… I just- I'm your mom. It's my job to worry about you."

"You worry too much," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her thin waist. "But… you're a good mom. So I guess I can suck it up." He pulled away and looked up at her, snagging his hat back. One of his eyebrows rose at the tears in her eyes. "You know that right? That you're a good mom?"

Lori swallowed hard and nodded, turning to look through the fence at the yard as she tried to bury her emotions.

* * *

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